Chapter 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.

As the returns of the Bengal census[90] show only 319,384 Christians in a total population of 52,668,269, these figures referring to their daughters’ education are striking. The aim of Christian education is twofold, the building up of the Christian community so that ultimately the Indian Church may be a strong social factor, and the education of non-Christians with a view to influencing them either directly or indirectly in favour of Christianity. These two aims are combined in most mission-work except in the case of most of the girls’ Boarding schools where a non-Christian girl is naturally the exception. Of the eleven High schools for Indian girls in the Province, six are under mission management and two varying types may be noticed.

The Diocesan High school--a Government-aided institution for girls under the management of the Clewer Sisters, has the reputation of being the best girls’ school in Calcutta. The reason for this is easy to discover in the personality of its Principal, Sister Mary Victoria, whose aristocratic idealism (if the words may be combined) determines the tone of the whole school. In India the personal element counts for everything, and without it, the best of institutions and Government plans are unavailing. Sister Mary Victoria and her English staff are constantly with the girls and when the school was first started they took their meals with the boarders until a tradition of manners was established. The school is well staffed with trained teachers both English and Indian, the former predominating. An English lady also who is interested in the school comes regularly to teach brushwork. There is an excellent College Department. The Government curriculum is followed, and in addition systematic religious instruction is given to all pupils. The ideal of this school is not, however, success in examinations only and their shadow does not lie heavily. As a small pupil remarked to the writer: “There are lots of girls in our school who don’t love examinations, but who do love school.” The pupils are drawn from various ranks and creeds; the boarders are mostly Christian, and the majority of the day scholars Hindu and Brāhma. The leading Indian families in Calcutta send their girls here, and to the Loretto Convent,[91] rather than to the Bethune School because of the personal contact with English ladies. The daily religious lesson is not felt as a deterrent in any way. It is curious to watch these girls drive up to the school in handsome carriages and to realize that they are only paying two shillings and eight pence a month for a really first class education. Many of the richer parents give donations as well, but the fee is kept low for the sake of the poorer. These fees and the Government grant practically cover the working expenses of the school apart from the support of the English staff. There are no separate schools for the wealthier classes worked on a system of full payment, partly because poverty is not so much a cause of separation in India as in Britain and partly because there is not a sufficient number of girls ready for higher education who could and would pay fees that would cover expenses. Taken as a whole the fees in mission schools are higher than in Government institutions.

Of a somewhat different and more usual type is the United Free Church High school, it exists almost entirely for the girls of this and other missions who enter it as boarders from the country; the school is thus predominantly Christian and has little contact with Indian life. Of 122 scholars about 90 are boarders, and accommodation is being built for more. The day scholars are mostly in the lower classes. The education given is exceedingly thorough, and if the whole curriculum ending with a teachers’ diploma is taken it ensures a girl a good post either in Government or mission service. There is no College Department, but a special feature since 1889 is the excellent Normal course from which most satisfactory results have been obtained. Miss Whyte may be rightly considered the pioneer of efficient training for teachers in Bengal. The Government curriculum is followed, and in addition the customary Biblical instruction is given. The school suffers from two drawbacks customary to all of its type, the lack of space and the “Westernization” of the pupils. Situated in one of the most crowded parts of the city, the buildings resemble a huge bee-hive packed with class rooms and dormitories and redeemed only by the glorious flat roof so characteristic of life in Calcutta. Below is a pathetically small playground where the boarders walk or read or play, in so far as the latter is natural to Indian girls. A splendid effort has been made by the staff to bring the girls into contact with nature and the historic monuments of India in order to counteract the cramping influence of the surroundings. One year a large party of teachers and former and present pupils visited Agra and Delhi, the wonder and glory of which opened a new field of thought and imagination to the Bengali girls. Another year the whole school was transferred for a short time to Deoghur. The material obtained on these expeditions served as a basis for nature study throughout the term. The students and elder girls are also taken once a year for a short mission tour, which serves not only to enlarge their horizon, but also emphasizes the primary purpose of the school. In spite, however, of the energy and originality of the staff in organizing these expeditions, the atmosphere of the school remains very much that of an ordinary secondary school in Scotland and has no distinctively Indian note. “Atmosphere” and curriculum are mutually dependent and their relationship is a problem that does not affect mission schools only. As a whole the mission High schools are doing a splendid work and their growing influence in the community is to be noted in the fact that occasionally Brāhma-Samāj and even Hindu girls are found amongst their boarders.

The Middle schools, teaching up to Standard V., have adopted the sound policy of excluding English, the object being to give a sound vernacular training to such children as will never have the chance of getting High school education. “It is these schools which supply the bulk of pupils to our training schools for mistresses, and as such their importance in our system of female education in this country is very great.”[92] The strong point of the mission schools, both Middle and Primary, is that they are under the direct and constant supervision of European workers. In one mission visited, all the Indian teachers were Christians and had had Normal training, and the schools were constantly visited by a lady holding the highest educational certificates. This is not the case everywhere, but it is the ideal aimed at. A mission Primary school is a pleasant place full of promise and of future possibilities. Shadow and sunshine are mingled, but on the whole the sunshine predominates.

Take for example one in the vicinity of Calcutta--an old one-storied dwelling-house off a village lane, which skill has converted into a passable four-roomed school, with a sandy patch of ground used for drill and occasional geography lessons. There are about 120 children from five to eight years of age, the infant department is evidently looked upon as a sort of crêche by the village, for there are eighty babies sitting in solemn rows on the matting, but as soon as a girl becomes useful or marriageable she is withdrawn. Presiding over this happy family are three white-saried Christian girls, only one of whom has been trained as a teacher. The girl with the eighty pupils has only been as far as Standard III. herself; she is however making a loyal effort; the babies pass their wooden boards with very tidy hieroglyphics for inspection, but the impossibility of it all makes one wonder if a Government grant is wisely given. The Head-mistress lends a kindly eye, but her attention is centred on Standard III. with its five select girls; this is the last year of Christian influences and these girls are being taught something not in the Government Code. They are bright and intelligent and the short Scripture lesson is enlivened by plenty of question and answer. Once a fortnight or once a week the school will be visited by an English lady, who will plan, supervise and if needful, give a model lesson. She has eight schools of this type under her personal superintendence, and her visits are the pivot on which they turn. A good Government grant is given; the Code for vernacular Primary schools is followed, and as there is no competition the work is warmly welcomed by the Hindu community. The mission Primary schools hold their own in the educational system; of thirty-eight money prizes given by Government to Calcutta girls’ Primary schools, all but three were won by mission pupils. The special characteristics of the missionary contribution to the educational problem, as a whole, are the presence of fully qualified European workers, who enter the educational sphere at salaries which no Government servant would accept, and the development of Normal work on scientific principles.

This review of the three agencies at work leads to the general consideration of some of the main problems which underlie the types and organization described, and which affect the educational outlook; the supply of teachers, the character of Secondary education, the development of Primary education and the co-ordination of the whole. The most crucial is undoubtedly that concerning the teacher.

The school career of the Bengali girl is limited at present in the large majority of cases to only four or five years, and there is thus no time for the teacher to waste. If education is to commend itself at all to the real India (as distinct from “Babudom”) it must be of the very best type. The Government realize this and are putting forth every effort to procure trained teachers, but whence are the students to be obtained, and who is to train them? The unquestioned future for every Hindu and Moslem girl is matrimony and it is therefore only from amongst those who have been widowed in childhood that teachers can be drawn. But in spite of all that has been written and said on this subject the necessary education is still denied to them, by religion, custom, and prejudice. In the Hindu Female Training School in Calcutta, started by Government to surmount some of the initial prejudice in regard to the training of “_parda-nashin_” women, there are only seven pupils. They are all widows of above sixteen years and though they are not admitted unless, when children, they have been through the fourth standard, their brains have remained fallow for six years and the problem of their training is a difficult one. In the only other Government institution for non-Christians there are at present thirteen Moslems and nine Hindus, and many of them have to be taught reading and writing as well as the art of teaching. It will thus be seen that though the ultimate solution of the dearth of teachers may be found in the utilization of the young widows, public opinion will have to undergo a considerable change before it is possible.[93] From the Brāhma-Samāj community more is to be expected, and though the Brāhma-Samāj Training Class in Calcutta is not at present in a flourishing condition, they certainly contribute a fair proportion of teachers. It is, however, from the Christian community that the teachers are chiefly drawn, and efforts are being made to secure their efficient training. Of the sixteen Training Institutions in Bengal thirteen are under mission management, and of 192 Indian pupils, 175 are Christian. A wholesome sign of the growing spirit of unity is the amalgamation of the training classes of four missions in Calcutta into one Christian Normal Training College with an excellent staff and a good modern equipment. So far it is only for mistresses who are to teach in the vernacular. Even with the large contribution of Christian teachers, the demand immensely exceeds the supply. Even before her examination there is hardly one of the candidates who has not secured a good post. They are in demand in the first instance for mission schools, in Brāhma-Samāj and non-sectarian institutions, and in Hindu and Model Primary schools. “The fact that they are Christians in a large number of cases is not considered a bar to their employment.”[94] The inference for missionary societies is obvious--that to supply all the girls’ schools of Bengal with teachers of strong Christian character would contribute much to the coming of the Kingdom of God. As regards the type of training given, the drawback is the fact that, like the Code, it is too Western. A solution may probably be found if the British educators are allowed to supplement their home-training by further studies on the spot, before undertaking work--a slower process but a surer one. Secondary training is yet to be developed both by missions and by Government. One Indian teacher has taken her degree of Bachelor of Teaching from a Mission school, but this is an isolated instance.

The relation of the statistics of Higher education to Primary is striking; only 11% of the girls at school are beyond the stage of just being able to read and write, while only 319 girls in the whole province are beyond the Middle stage. An immediate question is, How to retain the girls in the higher classes. Social and religious considerations weigh heavily here, as in the problem of the supply of teachers, but another influence may be, as elsewhere, the nature of the curriculum. This question has underlain much of the previous discussion, and is wide and far-reaching in its scope. Indian education must have its own “Paradise”; the acme of Western civilization ought not to be reproduced in India, if diversity and not uniformity is the higher law. There is something lacking if the Mahakali committee speak of a “feeling of relief” in an escape from Government education, and some compromise is surely possible between their system and that of the Anglicized Boarding School. Destructive criticism is easy and there is plenty of it in Indian educational circles. On the one hand, the mission authorities say that they are bound by the hard and fast rules of the Code which conditions their grant, on the other, there is a great deal more liberality and elasticity in the Government policy than is commonly imagined, and a really well thought-out curriculum on new lines would probably not mean the forfeiture of a grant. It is true that schools which vary from the type recognized at home are not aided by Government, but the Indian situation is different and it is probably for the good of the whole system that they should be under Government supervision and receive the impetus which comes from sharing in the educational scheme. Here is the opportunity for private enterprise and initiative; with co-operation on the part of the missionary societies in Calcutta it would surely be possible to remove one of their girls’ High schools to the country and to give a practical demonstration of what modern education on Indian lines might mean. This would be no easy task and could only be accomplished by a staff who had intimately studied the conditions of Indian life and thought. This would be the most effectual “constructive criticism.”

The extension of Primary education is a crucial problem throughout India; here in Bengal 95% of girls of school age are absolutely outside the educational pale. The wonder is, considering the inveterate indifference of the majority of parents and guardians to female education, even when it is freely given, that any progress is made at all. On the one hand there is the question whether it is advisable to encourage it too warmly, when the available supply of trained teachers is so disproportioned to the need; on the other, the multiplication of schools and the acceptance of female education by public opinion would create a condition more favourable to the ready supply of teachers. The new Code for Primary schools introduced in 1910, which is in accord with modern educational principles, may prove more attractive than the former. Finance is an important matter. Many villages are too poor to maintain separate _pathshalas_ for their daughters; there are at present 69,000 girls in boys’ Primary schools as against 75,000 in Primary schools for girls only. The result is that in these villages the stricter castes do not send their girls to school and even the others are withdrawn after the infant stage. In the Secondary schools in the cities many girls who can well afford to pay are enjoying a first-class education for two shillings and eightpence a month at the expense of Government and missionary societies. This looks as if a re-adjustment of funds might increase the Primary statistics. Here again is an unlimited sphere for private enterprise; the mission school for girls only, staffed by Indian women teachers under European supervision is welcome and sure of success. The system of Zenana teaching both by missionaries and Government teachers is, as in Eastern Bengal, of great use in breaking down prejudice, and though apparently slow and costly work, it is invaluable.

It might possibly prove to be for the good of the whole system if some small central Board or consultative committee were formed to promote co-operation in the development of future plans between the Government and the various private enterprises.

The future of female education in Bengal is partly a question of administration, partly that of a greater number of European educators in sympathy with the genius of the country, partly that of a reformed curriculum, but more fundamentally it is a question of religious evolution.