the spirit of the community, and the wisdom of connecting a local
committee with the management of every Middle and High school is
unquestioned; these Committees are supposed to consist of equal numbers
of men and women, and indeed the Government grant is often given only
on condition of there being an efficient working Committee. There are
also ladies’ committees in connection with the zenana classes in the
urban centres. It has, however, been exceedingly difficult to secure
the necessary ladies for this work, for the supply of educated Indian
ladies is very limited, and English women, because of the shortness of
their stay in any one district, are unwilling to undertake it. Some of
the officials’ wives have, however, given splendid service in this
way, and even if it is only a passing service it is more than worth
while. The work of these committees in the breaking down of social
prejudice and ensuring the confidence of the community is untold.
There is, as has been already said, a definite connection between
_parda_ parties and school attendance. The _parda_ party as a
social institution in other provinces has come to stay. It is perhaps a
pity that here it has had a certain shadow cast upon it of officialdom
and organization. The spontaneous and individual effort is quickly felt
and appreciated by Indian ladies. It must come also from a genuine and
mutual desire for intercourse and not from any _sous-entendu_
motive of pity or “bridge the gulf” idea. Indian ladies have their
own contribution to make to the unifying of ideals not only between
Indian and English, but between Indian and Indian. “The less said about
_parda_ parties and the more held,” is probably a wise dictum. The
work on some of the educational sub-committees will, however, often
give an English lady the direct contact with Indian life which is so
much needed.
The outlook for women’s education throughout the province is in many
respects a hopeful one; enthusiasts are working at it, there is a
steadily increasing flow of girls coming to the schools; a teaching
staff is gradually being built up, suitable text-books and manuals are
being produced. The generosity of a Government, hampered by finance
in every way, to this scheme, is a stamp of warm approval. No great
social undertaking, however, is fulfilled in haste, and least of all
where sympathy and the silent influence of individual friendship are
needed to pave the way for it.
V
BENGAL
“My Motherland, I sing
Her splendid streams, her glorious trees,
The zephyr from the far-off Vindyan heights,
Her fields of waving corn,
The rapturous radiance of her moonlit nights,
The trees in flower that flame afar,
The smiling days that sweetly vocal are,
The happy, blessed Motherland.”
Translation by W. H. Lee, I.C.S.
One of the subtlest problems of sociology is to trace the relation
of cause and effect in new conditions of life affecting a community.
Here in Bengal is a certain group of people calling themselves “a new
nation”; here is a new thought-centre by turns indefinite, immature,
bombastic, tentative, yet possessing a certain unity and aspiring after
certain definite ideals, and together with it, in part as cause, in
part as effect, is the steady educational advance of certain sections
of the community. There is little geographical unity, for the term
“Bengal” has been of varying content, comprising in the early days all
the East India Company’s possessions in Northern India; after 1836
a more definite and limited area, and finally[76] in 1905 reduced,
broadly speaking, to Bihar, Chota Nagpore, Orissa and the section
of Bengal proper which lies west of the Ganges and the Hooghly.
Ethnically, a mixture of Dravidian, Mongolian and Aryan elements, even
linguistic unity, is lacking, Bengali, Hindi, Bihari and Oriya, with
their corresponding dialects being the languages mainly in use. Yet, in
spite of all, the Bengali claim of unity is there in virtue of their
education, and in virtue of the “high proportion of literacy that
exists in Bengal compared with most parts of India.” Linguistically
again, Bengali, though only the native tongue of some 52%[77] of the
population, has become a modern literary language, and as such is a
strong factor for unity and progress. It is true that those conscious
of this unity who express themselves variously in congresses, in
journalism, in sedition, or in loyal Government service are doubtless
a minority, but they are an increasing element, and one which may
assert itself more in the future. The political side of this movement
is beyond the scope of this book, its existence cannot, however, be
ignored as it is one of the causes of the tide which is slowly setting
in favour of the education of women.
All the same obstacles and difficulties which we have studied in
Eastern Bengal, and some even more hard to surmount, are to be found
here. Seventy-eight per cent. of the population are Hindus and the
consequent custom of marriage below the age of ten years cuts short
the possible period of school attendance for girls. One woman in every
five is a widow, and yet custom and prejudice prevent this numerous
class from entering the teaching profession, as is the case with many
spinsters at home. Ninety-four per cent. of the population live in
scattered villages, and this increases the financial difficulty of
providing sufficient accessible schools for girls whose parents are
unwilling and often unable to pay anything. A strong prejudice against
the whole idea of the education of girls still exists, and though
systematic efforts are made to overcome this, they often lead to no
result, as is testified in the report of a Mohammedan gentleman of
good position engaged by Government to popularize education among his
co-religionists in Bihar. It often seems as if all effort to overcome
this prejudice were unavailing. Yet in the face of all this there is
a strong body of Indian opinion which emphasizes in speech and in the
press the need and advisability of female education. The Brāhma-Samāj,
one of the reform Indian sects much tinged by Christian thought, gives
every opportunity of education to its women, and has thus an influence
out of all proportion to its numbers[78] in the province. By the
extremely orthodox Hindu it is looked upon with the same suspicion
as Christianity, and yet its tenets of liberty and equality for
womanhood have a direct bearing on the general _parda_ conditions,
especially in the cities, so that, while the overwhelming proportion of
girls over twelve years of age in school is Christian or Brāhma-Samāj,
the influence of a new movement is beginning to make itself felt. An
occasional Moslem girl, to whom a Government “stipend” has been awarded
for her encouragement, is to be seen in the higher classes, or a young
Hindu widow, who has been allowed to return to school to fit herself
for a useful life.
Historically this movement in the Indian community is the result of the
work of Christian missions, which have been consistently the leaders
both in producing a high educational standard amongst the Christian
women and in affording facilities to any others who would come to their
schools. The Maharani of Baroda gives a fitting tribute in her recent
book[79] to Miss Cook and Lady Amherst as the two pioneers of women’s
education in all India. Some share of this should also be given to Mrs
Marshman, under whose instigation a society for the Education of Native
Females was founded in Calcutta in 1819. In the same year the first
modern girls’ school in all India was opened under its auspices. By
1821 thirty-two pupils were in attendance. Though the Baptists were the
first to actually start instruction, a parallel movement had been made
by a united committee of British and Hindu men. This Calcutta School
Society was founded in 1818 to advance the education of both boys and
girls, and on its invitation Miss Cook left England to open a school
for Hindu girls in Calcutta. The courage of the Hindu members of the
committee, however, failed them when it came to the actual starting of
the school. “Although they had spoken well while yet the matter was at
a distance and in the region of theory, they recoiled from the obloquy
of so rude an assault on time-honoured custom. The Babus had been
brought up to the talking-point, but not to the acting-point.”[80]
India thus lost the honour of a direct share in the first Western
education of her women. Miss Cook was fortunately able to transfer
her services to the Church Missionary Society, and opened her first
school in 1822. The dramatic circumstances of this are worth quoting in
full:[80]--
“Whilst engaged in studying the Bengali language, and scarcely daring
to hope that an immediate opening for entering upon the work, to
which she had devoted herself, would be found, Miss Cook paid a visit
to one of the native schools for boys, in order to observe their
pronunciation; and this circumstance, trifling as it may appear, led to
the opening of her first school in Thunthuniya. Unaccustomed to see a
European lady in that part of the native town, a crowd collected round
the door of the school. Amongst them was an interesting looking girl,
whom the school pandit drove away. Miss Cook desired the child to be
called, and by an interpreter asked her if she wished to learn to read.
She was told in reply that this child had for three months past been
daily begging to learn to read with the boys, and that if Miss Cook
(who had made known her purpose of devoting herself to the instruction
of native girls) would attend next day, twenty girls should be
collected. Accompanied by a female friend conversant with the language,
she repeated her visit on the morrow and found fifteen girls, several
of whom had their mothers with them. Their natural inquisitiveness
prompted them to inquire what could be Miss Cook’s motive for coming
amongst them. They were told that she had heard in England that the
women of their country were kept in total ignorance, that they were
not taught to read or write, that the men only were allowed to attain
any degree of knowledge, and it was also generally understood that the
chief obstacle to their improvement was that no females would undertake
to teach them; she had therefore felt compassion for them, and had
left her country, her parents, and friends to help them. The mothers
with one voice cried out, smiting themselves with their right hands,
‘Oh what a pearl of a woman is this!’ It was added, ‘she has given
up every earthly expectation, to come here, and seeks not the riches
of the world, but desires only to promote our best interests.’ ‘Our
children are yours, we give them to you.’ ‘What will be the use of
learning to our girls, and what good will it do to them?’ They were
told:--‘It will make them more useful in their families, and increase
their knowledge, and it was hoped that it would also tend to give them
respect and produce harmony in their families.’--‘True,’ said one of
them, ‘our husbands now look upon us as little better than brutes.’
Another asked, ‘What benefit will you derive from this work?’ She was
told that the only return wished for was to promote their best interest
and happiness. Then said the woman, ‘I suppose this is a holy work, and
well pleasing to God.’ As they were not able to understand much, it was
only said in return that God was always well pleased that His servants
should do good to their fellow creatures. The women then spoke to each
other in terms of the highest approbation of what had passed.”
In the course of 1822 eight schools were established, attended more or
less regularly by 214 girls. The Marchioness of Hastings also created a
deep impression by personally visiting many of the back alleys of the
city, and during the last two years of her stay in India her enthusiasm
did much to allay prejudice. In 1824 the Ladies’ Society for Female
Native Education was formed through the efforts of Miss Cook (now Mrs
Wilson), and a handsome central school was erected, to which Indian
gentlemen, notably Raja Buddinath Roy, contributed largely. Lady
Amherst was the first President of the new society. Dr Duff, commenting
on the situation some twenty years later, marks the wisdom of the
middle course between the “impossible” and the “all things possible”
party, the courage of those who were willing to begin with “here and
there a few.” While he held that the education of the men of India
must precede the education of the women, on any great scale, he looked
forward to the time when “there would be a wide and spontaneous demand
for female education by thousands and ten thousands. Then indeed would
dawn upon India the golden age of education.”[81]
It is a far cry from those days to the Calcutta of to-day with its
seven High schools, five of which have college departments, its
Training College, its Female Inspectorate, and a Government eager to
do anything to promote what it regards as a main social factor in the
development of the country. The “rising tide” may be best studied in
comparative percentages.[82] As in Eastern Bengal, three forces are
working here for the education of women, the Government, spontaneous
Indian effort, and the missionary societies, and a brief analysis of
these with their varying types and functions may serve to throw light
on the general situation with its problems and possibilities.
+MANAGEMENT OF SCHOOLS FOR INDIAN GIRLS IN BENGAL, 1909-1910+
+------------+-------------------------------+-------------------+
| | +UNDER | +UNDER |
| | PUBLIC | PRIVATE |
| | MANAGEMENT.+ | MANAGEMENT.+ |
| +-----------+-----------+-------+---------+---------+
| | |District or|Native | | |
| |Government.| Municipal |States.| Aided. | Unaided.|
| | | Board. | | | |
+------------+-----------+-----------+-------+---------+---------+
|High Schools| 1 | .. | .. | 7 | 3 |
| | | | | | |
|Middle-- | | | | | |
| English | .. | .. | .. | 12 | 1 |
| Vernacular| .. | .. | .. | 17 | 2 |
| | | | | | |
|Primary | 86 | 1 | 25 | 2,508 | 429 |
| | | | | | |
|Training | 1 | .. | .. | 14 | .. |
+------------+-----------+-----------+-------+---------+---------+
|Total | 88 | 1 | 25 | 2,558 | 435 |
+------------+-----------+-----------+-------+---------+---------+
_Bengal Public Instruction Report_--Statistics pages 4 and 32.
The Government system is a somewhat different one from that employed
in the newer province of Eastern Bengal and Assam, and may be taken as
the normal one in the various provinces of India. The work is directly
under the Director of Public Instruction, and forms a separate section
of the ordinary Educational Department. There are two Inspectresses,
who are members of the Indian Educational Service, but a large
proportion of the inspection in the country districts is of necessity
done by the ordinary Inspectors. Eastern Bengal has here the advantage
of newer and more plastic organization. The Government policy is rather
to aid voluntary schools than to launch out on schemes of its own;
its influence is mostly felt as a unifying agency by means of Code,
standard of examination and inspection, and as presenting occasionally
model types to which the voluntary schools may or may not think it
wise to conform. Thus less than one in twenty-eight of all girls’
institutions are entirely under public management, as may be seen in
the accompanying table. A slight divergence from this policy may,
however, be noted in the increase of Primary schools directly under
Government control from one in 1907 to eighty-six in 1910.[83]
The Bethune Girls’ College and High School, Calcutta, founded in
1849, may be taken as a type of a model Government institution.[84]
Situated near Hadua Talau in the heart of the native city, like all
city schools it suffers from lack of space. There is a fine pillared
verandah through which one enters into an open court. Into this court
open all the class-rooms. A characteristic feature is a very fine and
spacious library well-stocked with the classics of East and West.
At the time of my visit several girls were sitting at work in it. A
marked difference between Indian girls’ High schools and those at
home is that many of the former in the _parda_ districts aim at
having a College Department, which is affiliated to the University
and in which girls are prepared up to the B.A. stage. The merits of
this system will be discussed elsewhere.[85] In the Bethune College
Department there are about thirty-five students, and in the school
proper some one hundred and fifty, ranging in age from tiny girls
of five or six to the Matriculation candidates of sixteen years and
upwards. The lower classes are extremely crowded, and there is the
falling off in the upper school which is so characteristic of India.
This presents one of the most difficult problems in the education of
Indian women. The aim being to fit the pupils for life, and to train
them to think, how can it possibly be accomplished in the three short
years which in the majority of cases is all the time available? In
the High school proper the assumption is that the girls will stay on,
and the Bethune curriculum is shaped accordingly. There is a good
Kindergarten, and all the modern plant to make an efficient school;
the great drawback, as usual, is the lack of trained teachers, only
one of the whole staff having full qualifications. Indian music is
well taught as an extra subject, and it was a pretty sight to see some
half-dozen girls accompanying the harmonium with violin, _escar_,
and _zitta_. The school owes its success to two factors, first the
personality of its former Head-mistress, Miss Bose, the first woman
graduate of the University of Calcutta, and secondly to the eagerness
with which the Brāhma-Samāj welcomed this move on the part of the
Government. The girls in the higher classes are practically all from
the Brāhma-Samāj, so much so that perhaps this influence is almost too
predominant. A little Moslem girl who had received a special Government
“stipend” on account of her religion, had recently turned Brāhmo,
but the Head-mistress assured us that the change was due entirely to
home influences. There is a good hostel in the school compound, for
which there are always more applications than available vacancies, and
arrangements are being made for the more complete separation of the
school from the College department.
The function of the Inspectress is important, and it is to be
regretted that the word has come to suggest destructive rather than
constructive criticism. “Training” is a more accurate description of
the work, and in a country where a large proportion of the teachers
are untrained, it well repays the money spent thereon. A visit often
means three days spent in a village helping the teacher to a more
scientific system. Suggestions as to improvements in the Code ought
to come from the Inspectress, and she has every opportunity for
studying the conditions of the people and the suitability of the type
of education offered. To consider the relative value of European and
Indian Inspectresses is at the present moment of purely theoretical
interest. However great the advantage of the Indian in intimate
knowledge of the environment and of the mental characteristics of
the people, it is difficult as yet to procure any with the necessary
scientific qualifications and gift of organization. The difficulties of
travel are also accentuated for the Indian woman. The contribution of
Indian thought should be in the meantime rather in the building up of
individual schools, with ultimate constructive influence on the system
as a whole.
The indigenous and spontaneous effort of the Indian community towards
the education of their women is of two types, that of the Brāhma-Samāj
and reform societies, and that of the orthodox sections. The former
is very much in line with the general system: the Code is used, and
where alternative subjects are possible there is more emphasis laid on
Sanskrit than in mission schools, but as a whole it is not strikingly
“National.” The Brāhma Girls’ High School in Calcutta receives a
monthly grant of five hundred Rupees and is a first-class institution.
Their Middle schools are mostly English in contrast to the vernacular
mission schools. There are also a few Hindu Primary schools, which
follow the Government Code. It is to the orthodox communities that we
must turn to find the distinctively Indian note, the retention of which
in any really educative scheme presents so baffling a problem. Here in
the “Mahakali Pathshala” is a genuine Indian attempt at self-expression
in educational ideals. This school was founded in 1893, in Calcutta,
by “Her Holiness Mataji Maharani Tapaswini,” one of those strange
women saints who flit across the pages of Indian history, freed by
their mystical insight and rare wisdom from the shackles of ordinary
Indian womanhood. Hither the dainty little Hindu maiden of the upper
castes is brought in a closed gari with her hands full of marigolds
and other blossoms, to learn that school is but a larger home where
the mysteries and ritual of worship will become clear to her, where
she too will lisp the monotonous chant to the glory of the gods, and
sink her baby soul in meditation. True, there is a printed curriculum
on the wall, which says that Sanskrit, Bengali, Moral Text-Books and
Arithmetic are to be studied in six classes, but what matter! The
effort which these subjects entail is ever and anon relieved by
worship, and by the cooking which is part of worship. Then there is the
picture of Saraswati Devi,[86] on whom “as the Wonder of all Wisdom
one meditateth in the third watch of the night,” and three hundred
babies ranging from three to eight years of age will daily sway their
little bodies before her in the morning _puja_.[87] What musical
drill is in the Kindergarten so is _puja_ to the Patshala pupils.
There is a special prize for the best performer of _puja_--a
sari and a silver pin for every little _Kumari_[88] who has
honoured the school with her presence. The teachers are mostly elderly
pandits, to whom the visit of the Inspectress indicates the desire
of Government not to improve them, but to copy their most excellent
methods in the Government schools! Regarded from a Western point of
view the education is nil; the children can hardly read and write
their own language, geography and arithmetic are practically absent,
and there is no attempt to develop the mental faculties; from the
point of view of the orthodox Hindu, however, it is probably ideal;
the girls have “the ancient and sacred lore of their country infused
into them and their lives are modelled after the ideal Hindu female
characters of old.” Herein lies the real value to the student of
education: there is no gulf between school and home, and the child’s
own environment and its hereditary instincts are utilized as a basis,
but the trouble is that no superstructure is built thereon. Elsewhere
we have superstructure but no basis. The school has no grant, no fees
are paid, and the support is entirely obtained from subscriptions from
the Hindu community. Extensively the influence of these schools is not
great. There are nominally twenty-three branch schools in Bengal and
Eastern Bengal, but a branch notified in the report is not always found
to be in existence. That there is life in the movement is seen by the
fact that the present Head, the Srimati Mataji, undertook a tour in the
Mofussil and districts to organize branches. “She was everywhere well
received, and there was evident sense of relief and sympathy of the
public in the cause of female education under the Mahakali system.”[89]
To behold orthodox Hinduism sending a woman on tour in the interests
of education is indeed to realise the Renaissance of the East! But
“relief” from what? Is it from the non-religious character of the
Government system?
The third and most potent factor in the educational situation is the
missionary one. As this was the first in the field one would expect
their work to be more highly developed, and it must also be remembered
that the Brāhma-Samāj is an indirect fruit of the leavening of
Christian education. The doctrine of equal opportunity for man and
woman is seen at work in the comparative religious statistics of girls
at school.
Primary 5,360 Indian Christians to 126,897 Non-Christians.
Middle 1,382 Indian Christians to 1,430 Non-Christians.
High 448 Indian Christians to 667 Non-Christians.