My Dear Friend [General John Hartwell Cocke]
For several weeks I have had it
in mind to write to you, but I confess I have
shrunk from the effort to offer any consolation
in your great affliction. I could sit down
& weep with you in silence, and thus express
my deep sympathy with you, and your
afflicted family. But what sorrow is there
for which the Gospel does not afford a
remedy? What wound so deep that Jesus
cannot heal? Is there not a balm in
Gilead? Is there not a physician there?
Yea verily, there is one who came to
bind up the broken hearted. There is
no expression of grief stronger than
this, and yet the broken heart is
within the reach of his healing power.
Earth hath no sorrow that Jesus can=
not cure. He was himself a man
of sorrow, and acquainted with
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grief, and therefore can be touched with
a feeling of our infirmities. Yea he bore
our griefs & carried our sorrows. If then
Jesus sympathises with us, what need we
more? Can human sympathies add
anything to the full flowing stream of
divine consolation? Had your
noble son fallen in battle as mine did,
I know from experience, you would
have found consolation in the thought
that it was the glorious gate of Heaven
which had opened for him.
Well, though divested of the halo of
glory which, in the estimation of men,
would then have gathered around his
head–Philip died no less in the
service of his country, battling for
her rights, and for the defence of his
wife & children, and all that he
held dear on earth. It was God’s
appointment that he should die
near those he most tenderly loved.
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In this matter of death we must regard
second causes, as the appointment of
God, no less than the fatal result itself.
His constitution, never strong, had already
been taxed to its power of endurance
in a life of intense labour of mind
& body–His camp life unsuited to
his former habits–His patriotic ardour,
his noble ambition to do his whole
duty–his military passion enflamed his zeal
to efforts far beyond his strength.
His private secretary told me that after
bein on his horse all day attending
personally to fortifications, & other
camp duties, he would return to his
Tent completely prostrated, and
instead of taking the rest he needed,
would throw himself on his bed
and dictate to him for hours, giving
the minutest directions for the next
day. Is it any wonder that under
these exhausting labors, his delicately
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strung nervous system should have sunk?
Here, my dear friend was the cause of
your honored son’s death–his too
faithful performance of duties beyond
his strength. Look not beyond this
and the wise, though mysterious
decree of God. For some years
your beloved son had been a christian
and we know it shall be well with
them that die in the Lord, whatever
the manner of their death.
Please assure dear Courtney of my tender
love and sympathy with her, & her fatherless
children. “Leave thy fatherless children, I will
preserve them alive; & let thy widows trust in
me.” Here is a richer inheritance than gold
& silver.
Give my sincere love to Charles & his good
wife & children, and to Miss Nannie Oliver.
Also to Sally & her husband.
May God comfort and all your
afflicted family with his presence & his
grace.
Most affectionately
yr friend & brother in Christ
Peyton [Rives] Harrison
MSS 640
