Thus even “moments of relaxation” are to be employed by a vigilant mother in order to form the understanding of her child. There is no escape for little Emilie, she must be educated every minute of the day. Her play is always under supervision, always liable to interference and criticism. Her mother, usually her sole companion, is present at all interviews between Emilie and other human creatures.
The book is, in one sense, a simplified Emile, intended for children as well as parents; but Madame d’Epinay has not a vestige of Berquin’s humour to help her along the “paths of pleasure and amusement”. These repeated portraits of Emilie and her mother look dull indeed beside Berquin’s dainty groups, and her insistent doctrine almost hides the one beauty of the book: the character of Emilie.
There is no merit in Madame d’Epinay’s fancy portrait of herself as the Perfect Parent, but Emilie is lifelike, and holds out for a number of years in her stronghold of childhood. It is only on the eve of her tenth birthday that she remarks resignedly, “To-morrow will be an important day. When I rise, I shall no longer be a child”.
The tyranny of reason had, in fact, begun much sooner, when Emilie, curious about her own small part in the Universe, learnt that in time she would become a Reasonable Being.
| Emilie: | But what am I now, being but a child? |
| Mother: | How! You are five years old and have not yet reflected on what you are! Endeavour to find out yourself. |
| Emilie: | I cannot think of anything! |
This is a priceless opportunity to impress the lesson of dependence,—to prove that it is only by mildness, docility and attention that she can hope for a continuation of help and protection.
Punishment, says the Maternal Governess, is proper only for intractable and servile dispositions; but she is willing, before Rousseau, to correct faults by means of Fables.
This is how she deals with her pupil after a courageous burst of naughtiness:
| Mother: | Take a book from that shelf: that which you see at the end of the second lowest shelf. |
| Emilie: | Is it this, Mamma? |
| Mother: | Yes, bring it to me. |
| Emilie: | Mamma, it is Moral Tales. |
| Mother: | So much the better; it will amuse us. |
| Emilie: | Which shall I read? |
| Mother: | The first. |
| Emilie: | Oh! Mamma. |
| Mother: | What now? |
| Emilie: | It is—Let us read the second. Mamma. |
| Mother: | Why not the first? |
| Emilie: | Mamma, it is “The Naughty Girl”! |
| Mother: | Well, we shall see if it bring to our recollection any of our acquaintance. |
| Emilie: | Must I read it aloud? |
| Mother: | Without doubt; and pronounce distinctly. |