Sketches of some distinguished Indian women/Chapter 6
VI.
CORNELIA SORABJI.
One of the reasons which make it so difficult for people who have not closely studied the history of India to understand the intricate and delicate problems which are constantly presenting themselves in regard to its modern development, is that there are so many different races in the country, each perfectly distinct, with its own religion, language, and traditions, and with no special bond of sympathy or patriotism to draw them all together.
Of these various nationalities, the smallest numerically, though by no means the least interesting, is that of the Parsis. They are found scattered over various parts of Upper India, but chiefly in the Western Presidency, and by far the larger proportion of them live in the city of Bombay itself, where they form the richest and most influential portion of the inhabitants. Their position in India may in many respects be said to be analogous to that of the Jews in western Europe. Like them they have lived for centuries as exiles and aliens in a foreign land, keeping themselves distinct from the people among whom they dwelt, in their religion, their dress, and their social customs, and seldom intermarrying with them. Like them they have distinguished themselves by their aptitude for business, their enterprise, and their commercial prosperity, as well as by their loyalty to the Government of the country, although, like the Jews, the Parsis are seldom if ever to be found in the ranks of the army.
As their name signifies, the Parsis came originally from Persia, and belong to the Iranian branch of the Aryan family. The inhabitants of Persia, in course of time, had corrupted the primeval faith of their forefathers, and had sunk into gross idolatry, when, according to tradition, about the year B.C. 1200, Zoroaster began to preach and to lead them back to a purer and true form of religion. His doctrines spread widely, and from that time the Persians remained monotheists, worshipping the Creator of the Universe under the outward symbols of fire and light. During the seventh century of our era the country was conquered by the Saracens, who, being Mahomedans, forced the adoption of their religion on all those they overcame, and spread it with fire and sword. Although the Persians had as a nation sunk into a condition of great effeminacy, and were unable to offer any serious resistance to their fierce invaders, a nobler spirit still breathed in some parts of the country, where the inhabitants, who were chiefly engaged in agricultural and pastoral pursuits, inherited some of the indomitable courage and patience of their forefathers. Rather than accept the faith of the Saracens, which they looked on as idolatrous, these people submitted to the most cruel and unceasing persecution. They were driven from one part of the country to another, until at last, despairing of ever being able to remain in peace in their native land, a remnant of them took ship and sailed to India, where they landed on the western coast. Here they were kindly received by the people, and the rajah or prince of the place gave them permission to settle, and to exercise their religion without molestation. During the thousand years that have passed since their arrival in India, their history has been very uneventful. When Timur invaded Northern India, people called Magians are enumerated among his prisoners, from which we may infer that the disciples of Zoroaster had already made their way into the Punjab. Gradually the Parsis abandoned the agricultural pursuits which had occupied them on their first arrival, and, flocking to the towns and cities, devoted themselves to commerce.
When the English became masters of Bombay and of Surat, they found the Parsis established in both places, and carrying on business as merchants, bankers, and ship-builders; and since that time they have continued to flourish exceedingly, although it would appear from the census returns that their number is not increasing. In 1841 there were 114,000 Parsis in India, while in 1881 the number was given as only 85,000.
As we have already said, the religion of Zoroaster, which is still professed by the Parsis, is essentially monotheistic. Dr. Haug, who is the great authority on the subject, writes as follows:—"The leading idea of Zoroaster's theology was monotheism: that there are not many gods, but only one. The principle of his speculative philosophy was dualism, the supposition of two primeval causes of the real world and of the intellectual; while his moral philosophy was moving in the triad of thought, word, and deed." The Creator of the Universe is worshipped under the name of Hormazd, or Ahrima Mazda; while, according to the Parsi Scriptures, there are working in subjection to the Supreme Being two causes or principles, by whose agency he is the Causer of all causes, the Creator and Destroyer of all things. These two principles are Spento Mainyush, the increasing or Creating Spirit, and Angro Mainyush, the decreasing or Destroying Spirit. And these two are ever at work, and have been from all eternity, acting and counteracting on each other, but both in subjection to Him who is at once the Lord of Life and Death, of Light and of Darkness.
In addition to these, Parsi theology acknowledges six immortal spirits or benefactors, who preside severally over the vital faculty; light and brightness; rule, power, and wealth; piety and obedience; prosperity; and immortality. The idea of a future life and of the resurrection of the body distinctly pervades the sacred books, both the earlier and the later ones alike.
The most ancient of these books are the Zend-Avesta, which contain the main principles and outlines of the Parsi religion, and which are written in a language allied to, but distinct from, Sanskrit. The later books are written in Pehlevi, which belongs to the Iranian group of languages, and these are frequently written in the Gujerati character, it being in Gujerat that the Par sis first found a home in India. It is in these latter books that the details relating to religious ceremonies and customs must be sought. Pehlevi is the language used on all religious occasions, the daily prayers of the Parsis being said in this tongue, although it is to the greater number of them quite unknown, so that they repeat their prayers as a sacred duty, but with little or no comprehension of the words they are using.
The Zoroastrians are frequently spoken of as being worshippers of Fire and of the Sun, but it seems clear that this is not really part of their religion. "God, according to the Parsis, is the embodiment of glory, refulgence, and light, and a Parsi engaged in prayer is directed to stand before fire, or with face to the sun, as proper symbols of the Almighty. Fire is the best and noblest representative of the Divinity, in its brightness, activity, purity, and incorruptibility; while the sun is the best and most useful of God's creation."
Fire, then, is worshipped only, if at all, as the representative of Him who is Himself Eternal Light, and as such the practice is very ancient among Aryan nations.
The principles of the Parsi religion, as sketched above, are those which may fairly be deduced from their sacred books, and such as are held by the most enlightened and cultivated members of their community. But, like other religions, the beliefs actually held by the more ignorant have become much corrupted and debased.
In order to avoid persecution from their neighbours, the Parsis at one time or another adopted many Hindu customs; they neglected the study of their sacred books, and, as a natural consequence, their religion became corrupted and almost idolatrous. The vulgar and unlearned ceased to see in fire only the symbol of Divine Light, and adored the visible flame, as well as the sun, moon, and stars. They even lost sight of the truth that there was but one God, and worshipped two spirits, one good and one evil, whom they believed to be contending for the dominion of the universe. In fact, like Brahminism, Buddhism, and even Christianity itself, the religion of Zoroaster has been greatly perverted by his followers, and it would be unfair to judge its real teachings by the beliefs held by its more ignorant professors. Its real superiority to the other religions of India may, however, be gathered from its effect on the people who profess it. The Parsis are distinguished from both Hindus and Mahomedans by their general good conduct and their high standard of morality, as well as by their general healthiness. Their average mortality is singularly low, especially among the children. Their women occupy a far more honourable and independent position than either Hindu or Mahomedan women, and are universally allowed to be both good wives and good mothers. They are not kept in seclusion, but drive about in open carriages, with their faces uncovered, wearing white shawls or sarees over their heads, and a great deal of jewellery. The men wear a white or black coat and white trousers, and a dark turban or cap of a peculiar shape.
The Parsis seem to have inherited that characteristic of their Persian forefathers which so struck the Greeks, namely, the facility for adapting themselves to foreign manners and customs; and they are decidedly the most Europeanized of any of the Asiatic inhabitants of India. In one particular, however, they cling steadfastly to their national custom, namely, with regard to the disposal of their dead. These they neither bury nor burn, but expose them, uncoffined, at the top of high towers, where they are devoured by the birds. This custom appears to us both unnatural and disgusting, but is defended by them as being the best possible, because the speediest, way of disposing of the dead bodies, and as wise on sanitary grounds. Cremation, which is frequently recommended on this latter ground, they object to from religious scruples, Zoroaster having taught that fire was too sacred a thing to be profaned by a dead body.
The towers on which the bodies are exposed are called Towers of Silence, and are, some of them, of a great height. The highest at Bombay is over ninety feet. It is considered a very meritorious act to build such a tower, and the completion of one is usually made the subject of a general rejoicing.
It is frequently claimed for the Parsis, by their own writers, that they are a very tolerant people, and that while they have proved their fidelity to their own faith even to the death, they have never persecuted or ill-used members of other religions. It should, however, be remembered that almost all religious systems have been tolerant while they were themselves in a minority, and that the era of persecuting intolerance has been that of power, so that the Parsis have never really been in a position to exercise intolerance. It is, however, notorious that they do not view with indifference the conversion of any members of their own body to Christianity, and that a Parsi who desires to throw in his lot with the Christians must expect as many difficulties and troubles as though he were a Mahomedan or a Hindu.
A very well-known instance of this occurred in the case of the Rev. Sorabji Kharsedji, how a missionary of the Church Missionary Society at Poona. He was brought up strictly as a Parsi, but while pursuing his school studies he became acquainted with the Bible, which he read diligently and devoutly. The pure unselfish morality which he found there greatly attracted him, and his heart answered to the idea of a mediator and a Saviour as set forth in the New Testament. In some of his own sacred books he had found a dim echo of Isaiah's prophecy that a deliverer should arise, who would subdue all evil and save his people from their sins, but the religious system of the Parsis offered him no such friend. Gladly, therefore, he accepted the truth as revealed in Christ, and with a willing and teachable heart he listened to the missionaries. At last he professed himself a Christian. At once there burst upon him such a storm of opposition as can be but faintly realised by us who live in a Christian land. In the graphic and touching words of one of his daughters, "Imprisonment, desertion, stoning, were the least he had to suffer. They sent him out oar-less and rudderless to sea, in a tiny boat once, hoping he would be drowned, and added to all, of course, was the wrath of his people; his father and his uncle disinherited him, and his mother died of a broken heart." But the faith of the young convert was proof even against such attacks as these; the grief and anger of his parents moved him no more than the persecution and cruelty of the priests, and the existence of British justice in the country prevented them from carrying their opposition further. As soon as he had attained the necessary age Mr. Sorabji was ordained, and henceforth devoted his life to the work of the Church Missionary Society. His labours have been greatly blessed, both as a teacher and a preacher, though, perhaps, his most important work has been done with the pen. He is a member of the Committee for translating the Bible into Gujerati, and has also published a work on Zoroastrianism and Christianity. In this book he not only shows how inferior is the religion of the Parsis to that of the Christians, but also shows good ground for denying that the Zend Avesta is at all as ancient as it claims to be, or that it is in any real sense the work of Zoroaster.
Mr. Sorabji married a Hindu convert to Christianity, and together they both laboured at Nassick, where they are still remembered and welcomed with affection, and where most of their children were born.
Mrs. Sorabji herself is a woman of rare intellectual power, allied to a force of character and a spiritual charm such as are seldom to be met with. As six daughters were born to her one after another, her neighbours gathered round her to condole with her, because that no son had come to redeem the family. According to Indian ideas a woman's hope of happiness, on earth or after death, depends upon her being the mother of a son, so that the birth of daughters can only be considered a trouble and a disgrace. But Mrs. Sorabji thought otherwise ; already she had grasped the idea that the salvation and regeneration of Indian society should be wrought by its women, and she gazed proudly on her little flock, and counted them all as sons.
The fifth daughter, born at Nassick in 1866, received the name of Cornelia. Soon after her birth her parents removed farther south, and the child's first reminiscences are associated with a very lovely place in the Dekkan. There many happy years were spent, the early lessons being made delightful to the children by the mother's sweet and imaginative teaching. There were no kindergartens in India in those days, but the little Sorabjis had a sort of kindergarten of their own. "We learnt to sing our letters," writes Cornelia, "to tunes mother made for them, and to the names of our friends and acquaintances. I remember a delightful alphabet, where A was for 'Appagi Bappaji,' who was god-father to one of my sisters. We learnt to count over playing at 'shop' with mother. Nature around us was invested with life, and we were told stories of the birds and insects which brought them near us, and unconsciously we learnt Natural History. So with our writing; 'the soldiers' and 'towers' (strokes and pot-hooks) were all part of a long delightful game which had no end."
While the mother trained and educated the younger children, the father devoted himself to the elder girls. In that far away village in the Dekkan there were but few opportunities for girls to learn much; and the young Sorabjis soon got beyond what could be taught them in the Church Missionary School. Fortunately for them, their father was both willing and able to teach them, and under him they studied mathematics, science, and Sanskrit, until they had reached the standard required for the matriculation at the University of Bombay.
Education had been making great strides in the Western Presidency, both for men and women, but the question of admitting the latter to University examinations had not yet been mooted. Mr. Sorabji then sent in an application for his two eldest daughters to be admitted to the matriculation examination at the Bombay University, and it was refused.
This refusal was a great blow both to the father and the daughters, but the effort they had made was not without its effect.
The question had been raised, and though it was some years before the matter was finally settled, the fight between the advocates and the opposers of women's education at last ended in the unconditional admission of women to all the University examinations.
The Sorabji family had now removed to Poona, and Mrs. Sorabji, finding her time less fully occupied as her children grew older, determined to put into execution a plan which she had long been revolving in her mind.
We cannot do better than quote her daughter's words on the subject:—"It seemed to my mother that the great question of how to bring the nations in India together, could best be solved by making them learn together as children. They worked together in offices when grown, but their relations were strained and unhappy, and if early friendships had been there to recall, things might have been different; for the minds of all a more intimate knowledge of each other would be beneficial."
A school, on much the same lines as those Mrs. Sorabji was contemplating, had been started at Ahmedabad under Government auspices in 1872, by the name of the Female Normal School, and its success was already assured. It was attended by women of all the better classes in Gujerat, and it was found that the intercourse of the pupils with each other did much towards overcoming their caste prejudices.
Ten years after its foundation it had sent out thirty-six well-trained teachers, and the work of the pupils, especially map-drawing, plain needle- work, and embroidery was such as to elicit the warm commendation of the Government inspectors.
In 1875 the work of the school was not as widely known as it has since become, but its success during the three years it had then been in existence, was sufficiently marked to encourage Mrs. Sorabji in the idea of establishing a somewhat similar institution at Poona.
The school she founded there, and which is known as the Victoria High School, was in many respects different in its working from that of the normal schools, being as far as possible on the same lines as English high schools, and its success has been so remarkable that more than one school has been modelled after it in other places.
In the Victoria High School Europeans, Parsees, Brahmans, Jews, and Mahomedans are successfully taught together, and the numbers attending it are constantly on the increase. At the present time the High School itself has about 150 pupils; but there is also a branch school in connection with it, a large and flourishing kindergarten school, and a department in which older girls are prepared for the matriculation examination of the University of Bombay.
Since the opening of the Victoria High School Mrs. Sorabji has succeeded in establishing three other large schools in Poona. One of these is for children who understand nothing but the vernacular, or Marathi language; another is intended for young Mahomedan girls of good family, who are not allowed to attend mixed schools; and the third undertakes the task of training teachers, and is almost the only institution of the kind in the Bombay Presidency.
In the working of these schools Mrs. Sorabji has been assisted almost from the commencement by one or more of her daughters, and at the present time no less than four of them help her regularly: the eldest is assistant superintendent; the second teaches music; another is head mistress of the High School, 'where she specially manages the upper forms; while another devotes herself to teaching in the kindergarten; in addition to which one daughter, who holds an appointment under Government, but who lives at home, devotes all her spare hours to the work of the schools. Two of these girls served an apprenticeship for some time as assistant teachers under Miss Collett in the Female Normal School at Ahmedahad, so that there is ample justification for the generous pride with which Cornelia Sorabji speaks of her mother and sisters as having done much for the cause of education in Western India, and as having been the means of bringing knowledge and enlightenment to many dark and ignorant minds.
We must return, however, to Cornelia herself. She was only nine years old when the Victoria High School was started, and she immediately took her place as one of its pupils. Three years later she began to help in the teaching, though continuing her own studies at the same time, and later on she passed through a course in the training school established by her mother. The sister next above her was her special instructress, and it was to her teaching that she ascribed her success, when, at sixteen, she went up for matriculation at Bombay. Having passed this examination, she was not content, like many other students, with what she had already achieved ; success only increased her desire to learn more and to continue her course up to the degree. In order to do this, it was necessary for her to keep terms at a Government college; accordingly, she was entered as a student at the Dekkan College at Poona, and while continuing to live at home, she drove every day to the college for her work.
For a time, at any rate, her experiences there were anything but pleasant. She was the only girl student at the college, and her position as such was not an easy one, among three hundred men students, who looked on her as an intruder, and who had never been trained as English men and boys are, to look upon a woman with respect and to treat her with consideration and courtesy. On the contrary, these young Indian students had been accustomed from their boyhood to hear the women of their family spoken of with contempt, and to see them treated as inferior beings; and it is not to be wondered at that they made Miss Sorabji's life as unpleasant as they could. They stared at her rudely, they played practical jokes upon her, shut the doors of the class- rooms in her face, and tried to keep her out of lectures. All this, however, she bore with patient good-humour, determined not to be driven out, because she felt that she was a pioneer in the cause of her countrywomen's advancement, and that as such she must be ready to endure a great deal. All the students, moreover, did not behave so badly to her; her own countrymen, the Parsis, were uniformly courteous and civil, showing in their good manners the result of the more enlightened views with regard to women in which they had been brought up.
Miss Sorabji worked at the college five hours every day, but she had also to study several hours at home in order to get through her work, which she found rather hard. She does not appear to have studied Latin at all before she began her college course, so she had, as she says, "to put five years of Latin into one." Since that time French has been introduced into the University course, as an alternative for Latin in the case of women students; but it was not so then, and the regular curriculum was a fairly difficult one for a student whose previous education, good as it had been, had not been conducted on exactly the same lines. However, on the whole, Miss Sorabji enjoyed her college days. The lectures she always found delightful, and even the examinations were to her a source of real pleasure. Nor were her exertions unsuccessful; besides the real pleasure which she found in study, she obtained substantial rewards of another kind. She was a college scholar each year of her course; she won the Havelock prize, and the Hughling's Scholarship of the Bombay University, which is awarded to the highest candidate in the First Arts Examination. At each examination she took honours, and in the final examination for the degree, in 1887, she was one of four in the first class of the University list, and stood at the head of all the students from the Dekkan College.
While waiting for the results of the examination to be made known, Miss Sorabji resumed work in the Poona Schools, throwing herself into the work of teaching others with the same whole-hearted enthusiasm which she had displayed in learning for herself.
At the end of a month the lists were published, and great were the rejoicings at the distinctions she had won, not only in her own family circle, but among all who were at all interested in watching the development of education among Indian women.
Almost immediately afterwards she received the offer of a teaching Fellowship in the Gujerat College at Ahmedabad. This she refused, being anxious to devote her time and talents to the education of women rather than of men; but when, a short time after, she was again offered a Fellowship at the same college, and found that the authorities had created a new one expressly to meet the demands she had made, she felt that she could not again refuse. It seemed, indeed, to her that there must be work for her to do at Ahmedabad, and believing that "it would do Indian men good to be ruled for a time by a woman," and "also that if Indian women were ever to be raised, it must be by the respect gained for the sex by certain members of it," she made up her mind to go.
It was a formidable undertaking, and one which required no small amount of moral courage. It had been hard enough to find herself the only girl at the Dekkan College; but then she had her home to go back to every day, and the sympathy of her parents and sisters to help and encourage her.
Now she had to leave home altogether, and alone to appear before a large body of young men, not as their fellow- student, but as their teacher. It was an ordeal which few girls of twenty-one would have sustained with equanimity, but she came through it unscathed. She writes of it thus: "I do not like to recall my first lecture; but the men behaved well. One rather dreaded contest was all I have to record, and a little sarcasm cured the men. I found them docile and very appreciative."
Her work was to lecture to a class of men on English Literature and Language, her pupils being candidates preparing both for the Previous Examination and the two examinations for the B.A. degree; and she soon won her way by her quiet decision of character and ready tact. It was a great victory; for it demonstrated to all who were willing to be convinced, that an Indian woman may not only possess marked intellectual abilities, but also those qualities of character which are of greater importance and more lasting value, and which must be held to entitle her, without question, to honour and respect.
Three months after Miss Sorabji's appointment as Fellow, she received an acting appointment as Professor of English in the college. The work of this appointment is usually performed by the English Principal of the College, but owing to the absence of this gentleman, a vacancy occurred for about six months, during which time Miss Sorabji performed the duties and received the salary of the English professor.
It was a great honour to be awarded to one so young, and it was doubly welcome, as it enabled her to put by some money towards the expenses of a visit to England, on which she had set her heart. Not content with the successes she had already gained in India, Miss Sorabji desired to prosecute her studies still further, and her great ambition was, if possible, to go through a course at some college preparatory to passing the Degree Examination of one of our universities.
The Government of India, in order to encourage students to go to England, have established several scholarships, and Miss Sorabji hoped to be able to obtain one of them. But although her qualifications in other respects would have fully entitled her to it, the Government decided that it could only be held by a man. It was a cruel disappointment, and when, in 1888, the selected scholar succumbed to sea-sicknees on his way to England and returned home from Aden, her hopes revived, for she felt confident of passing the ordeal by water. But again her application was refused, and it became evident that if she was to go to England at all, she must depend on her own exertions and on such help as she could obtain from the friends of women's education.
She had saved about £60 out of her salary, and had borrowed about as much from friends in India. This was enough, at any rate, to pay her passage to England and back; and, having received a warm invitation from Miss Manning, the Hon. Secretary of the National Indian Association, and a promise of help from friends in England, she resigned her post in the Gujerat College and set out on her journey of faith and hope.
Miss Sorabji was not allowed to leave Ahmedabad without many tokens of the appreciation in which her work was held by all. Her pupils presented her with a farewell address, accompanied by a present of Cutch silverwork, and the Principal of the College gave her a very handsome testimonial. It ran as follows:—
"Miss Cornelia Sorabji having passed the examination for the degree of B.A. in the First Class, was appointed a Dakshina Fellow in the Guzerat College, for the year 1888. As a teacher in the college, she did her work with remarkable ability and tact, in a very quiet and unassuming way, at the same time that she exercised complete control over the students. Whatever work was entrusted to her, she did it in the most satisfactory manner, leaving nothing to be desired.
"I had recently, on a vacancy occurring, recommended Miss Sorabji for a Professorship in this college, and I still wish that she may be allowed to continue her connection with this college, where she has already done such good work. By her brilliant University and College career, and by her excellent work as a teacher this year, Miss Sorabji has shown that she is pre-eminently fitted to supply in her person the great want felt in many towns and in the Native States, namely, a thoroughly able and qualified lady superintendent for girls' schools.
"Miss Cornelia Sorabji will carry with her the good wishes of all her colleagues in this college.
(Signed) " J. A. Dalal, M.A.,
Principal,
"Guzerat College, Ahmedabad."
It was some disappointment to Miss Sorabji on her arrival in England to find that the only actual degree attainable by women was that of the University of London, and that the course for that degree, as well
as that for the Tripos Examinations at Cambridge, was both too long and too expensive for the time and means at her command.
The course laid down by the University of Oxford, however, seemed to offer special advantages, and a scholarship of £25 a year at Somerville Hall having been awarded to her, she took up her residence there at the beginning of the October term 1888. Miss Sorabji was advised to devote her time chiefly to the study of English Literature, with a view of taking, honours in that subject, in which she had already shown herself so well informed; and she worked at this for some time. However, the opening of the Honour School of Law at Oxford to women turned Miss Sorabji' s ideas in a new direction, and she thought that by qualifying herself in this subject she might be able to open out a new career for women in India. She is now, therefore, studying law, and her answers at the last examination were such as to call forth warm expressions of praise from the examiners, and to make her friends hope that her success in the final examination will be very marked.
Miss Sorabji has made many warm friends since she came to England, and the assistance which they have given towards continuing her studies has been prompted as much by personal affection as by admiration for her abilities and her brave endeavours.
When Miss Sorabji first came to England she was frequently asked to .speak at missionary meetings, especially at those in support of Zenana Missions; but, under medical advice, she has now been obliged to give this up, as her health is by no means very robust, and the exertion of speaking in public is more than she can stand.
It may be mentioned here that Mrs. Sorabji paid a visit to England in 1886, at the invitation of the Indian Female School and Zenana Missionary Society, and made many friends, who were prepared to welcome her daughter when she arrived two years later.
Mrs. Sorabji herself is, as has already been said, a woman of great character and keen intellect. She was one. of the witnesses examined by the Commission on Indian Education in 1882, and her evidence given at Poona was considered very valuable, both from her own position as one of the leading ducationalists in the Bombay Presidency, and from her intimate acquaintance with the needs of native society. She stated on this occasion that she did not consider that "home education" for either boys or girls in India was of much value, except as a supplement to what they were taught at school. In fact, it was her opinion that education, in the proper sense of the word, must begin with women, if it was to be of any use to the men, because it was the mother's influence which was strongest in moulding the child's character; and for this reason she thought no trouble or expense should be spared to raise the standard of female education in India. While Mrs. Sorabji was in England in 1886, the work of her schools was ably carried on by her daughters; but her absence was keenly felt in every department of missionary work at Poona.
Her husband wrote thus: "I feel as though I had lost my right hand. Often, when I have been in need of her wise counsel and prompt action, I have been forced to wait and hesitate. The mercy and wisdom of God in providing a help-meet for man never came home to me so forcibly before. I must take this opportunity of observing that my wife, who is still in England, speaks with heart-felt gratitude of the kindness and love shown to her by people in that Christian land."
Mrs. Sorabji's schools are now partly supported by a Government grant-in-aid, a clear proof of the value attached to them; she has made them over to a society, so that they may be carried on on the same lines when she and her daughters are no longer there to direct them.
That some members, however, of this remarkable family may long continue to work in Poona we may reasonably hope. The youngest Miss Sorabji already gives promise of emulating her elder sister's achievements, for she has recently matriculated at Bombay, though only fourteen, and she stood nineteenth in order of merit among nearly three thousand candidates; she, however, intends to be a doctor. The success achieved by Mrs. Sorabji and her daughters is no doubt exceptional, and it must not be supposed that every Indian woman to whom the same advantages may be offered would make as good a use of them. They have, however, proved beyond all possible doubt that Indian women are, under favourable circumstances, quite as capable as English women of high educational development, and moreover, that such development renders them all the better qualified to serve their generation, either in the domestic circle as wives, mothers, and daughters, or in the more extended sphere of teachers and workers.