had ever borne." Self-reliance and the power of bringing things to pass early became distinguishing qualities. The father was proud of the promise of his son, and when the boy was about fifteen years of age, gave him his choice of a career on the farm or in some professional calling. The father could hardly have been surprised at the prompt decision in favor of a profession.

Richmond College was then new, and under the presidency of the Rev. Dr. Robert Ryland, was prosecuting its work in the suburbs of the Capital City. The College was only twenty miles distant from Edgehill and soon our ambitious youth was diligently pursuing his studies within its walls. No special genius betrayed itself, but there was the same bent of assiduous application which was on display when the abundant crop was raised. Dr. Ryland was not slow in discovering the promising traits in the new student, and a mutual interest sprang up between them. The astute President saw in the boy the prophecy of stalwart young manhood, just such a factor as might some day be of value to himself in the labors of the Institution. The interest grew into intimacy, and there were occasional confidential interchanges respecting the boy's hopes and aspirations. The time of attendance on the College classes was drawing to a close, when one day the Doctor suggested to him a further course at Columbian College, a Baptist institution of higher learning in Washington City. The thought enlisted the youth's enthusiasm, but he urged the lack of funds needful for such a scheme. Then the generous friend replied: "I will furnish that, and you can repay me at your convenience."

Here was a compliment from a wise educator which, though it tended to no inflation of conceit, put a glowing stimulus in a young man's soul. No true man or woman ever fails to give gratitude and honor to those who quickened and encouraged aspiration in the days of youth. Impressed deeply by the kindly offer, and stirred by leaping ambition, Charles Lewis Cocke left the College and returned to his home. At once he communicated to his father the new visions and hopes. The father, pleased at the hunger of the son for larger knowledge, said: "You shall go to Columbian College; but we will not draw on the generosity of Dr. Ryland. I will supply the means." Charles was then about eighteen years of age.

The boy Daniel Webster was riding one day in a buggy with his father, when at a certain point of the conversation the father said: "Son, I have decided to send you to Dartmouth College." The announcement fell like music on the aspiring soul, and the only response the delighted son could make was to lean his head on his father's bosom and burst into tears. Edgehill knew an emotion like that in the summer of 1838. Pursuant to plans for early departure to Washington, James Cocke and his son drove to Richmond in a buggy. While the reins were in the father's hands, the horse went at a sluggish gait. Presently they were passed to the son, when instantly the drudging steed pricked up his ears and struck a new stride.

"You have been whipping this horse," exclaimed the surprised father.

"No," was the reply, "I have never whipped him, but he knows what I want him to do."

Long years afterward, this little incident was told by the President of Hollins Institute to his graduating class, with the reflection, that he had learned that the best movements in horses and in people can be secured without whipping.

The new student was welcomed into Columbian College and there pursued the courses of study with unabating enthusiasm. Naturally the environment of the national Capital served as a wholesome stimulus to all his faculties. The good habits of his life suffered no deterioration and the fine qualities of his mind went on maturing rapidly. It was during this period that deepening religious impressions resulted in an open confession of faith, and in union with a Baptist church in the city. He was baptized in the Potomac river. Closely following his twentieth birthday came his graduation with the degree of M.A. It is to be regretted that no letters written to his parents during this season have been preserved. Fortunately, two written to his friends do survive. One, sent to his college chum, Mr. A. B. Clark, of Richmond, Virginia, bears date of May 22, 1839:

"I walk at the usual times alone, spending the moments mostly in meditation on serious subjects. My thoughts are more apt to turn this way than formerly. I write two lessons per day in Greek and read but little in other books."

Something far more significant appears in the second letter which was addressed to a kinswoman in the neighborhood of Edgehill. In that he declared a settled purpose, "To devote my life to the higher education of women in the South, which I consider one of our greatest needs. In this decision, my promised wife concurs." What special influences led the college boy to such a majestic consecration, we have no means of discovering. That it is a mark of uncommon maturity and breadth of intelligent conception, there can be no question.

The benignant spirit of Democracy was becoming atmospheric and the intellectual emancipation of woman steadily and slowly pressed to the fore. Ancient prejudices and stupidities were beginning reluctantly to yield. Not one of the elder ages had ever grasped the thought of woman's mental, social and political equality with her brothers. Here and there a lone voice had been lifted in her behalf to fall on deaf ears and unresponsive hearts. The world habit of thought laughed the innovation out of court and the bondage of general ignorance remained unbroken. But the imperial idea of the dignity and worth of the human individual could not be forever submerged. Its persistent pressure loosened the bonds of tradition and began to breach the walls of custom. Modern freedom wrought itself into the minds of men, and thinkers announced the harbinger of a new era. Practice, as usual, lagged behind theory, and one hundred years ago when Charles L. Cocke was born, advantages for the culture of daughters were inferior to those afforded the sons. That this inequality should have impressed the mind of a young collegian, shows uncommon susceptibility to social needs and sacred human rights. A rare young manhood came to expression when he dedicated himself to the new ideal. He did not originate the ideal. It was borne to him in the expansive thought of the time. His shining merit is in the fact that he made the early resolve to be an agent in bringing in the better day for the liberal education of young women.

It was in the Spring of 1840 that his college work closed and he received the degree of Master of Arts. Before the Finals of that session, there was some important correspondence between himself and Doctor Ryland. The good President had startled Charles with the flattering proposition that he should become a member of the Faculty of Richmond College, as assistant teacher in Mathematics and as manager of the dining hall. The college was then trying to combine training in agriculture with the usual curriculum, an experiment that was soon abandoned. The young man was too genuinely modest to fancy himself equipped for so responsible a position. He faced the issue frankly, however, and much influenced by confidence in the judgment of Doctor Ryland, decided to accept. Leaving Columbian College he hastened to witness the closing exercises at Richmond College.

It must have seemed almost comical to see a practically beardless youngster put in charge of some of the vitally important duties of the Institution. There he was, without a touch of egotism of self-consciousness, quiet of manner, and yet with something about him that looked