Even, however, if there were no other reasons against telling children fairy-tales of sex instead of the real facts, there is one reason which ought to be decisive with every mother who values her influence over her child.  He will very quickly discover, either by information from others or by his own natural intelligence, that the fairy-tale, that was told him in reply to a question about a simple matter of fact, was a lie.  With that discovery his mother’s influence over him in all such matters vanishes for ever, for not only has a child a horror of being duped, but he is extremely sensitive about any rebuff of this kind, and never repeats what he has been made to feel was a mistake to be ashamed of.  He will not trouble his mother with any more questions on this matter; he will not confide in her; he will himself learn the art of telling “fairy-tales” about sex matters.  He had turned to his mother in trust; she had not responded with equal trust, and she must suffer the punishment, as Henriette Fuerth puts it, of seeing “the love and trust of her son stolen from her by the first boy he makes friends with in the street.”  When, as sometimes happens (Moll mentions a case), a mother goes on repeating these silly stories to a girl or boy of seven who is secretly well-informed, she only degrades herself in her child’s eyes.  It is this fatal mistake, so often made by mothers, which at first leads them to imagine that their children are so innocent, and in later years causes them many hours of bitterness because they realize they do not possess their children’s trust.  In the matter of trust it is for the mother to take the first step; the children who do not trust their mothers are, for the most part, merely remembering the lesson they learned at their mother’s knee.

The number of little books and pamphlets dealing with the question of the sexual enlightenment of the young—­whether intended to be read by the young or offering guidance to mothers and teachers in the task of imparting knowledge—­has become very large indeed during recent years in America, England, and especially Germany, where there has been of late an enormous production of such literature.  The late Ben Elmy, writing under the pseudonym of “Ellis Ethelmer,” published two booklets, Baby Buds, and The Human Flower (issued by Mrs. Wolstenholme Elmy, Buxton House, Congleton), which state the facts in a simple and delicate manner, though the author was not a notably reliable guide on the scientific aspects of these questions.  A charming conversation between a mother and child, from a French source, is reprinted by Edward Carpenter at the end of his Love’s Coming of Age.  How We Are Born, by Mrs. N.J. (apparently a Russian lady writing in English), prefaced by J.H.  Badley, is satisfactory.  Mention may also be made of The Wonder of Life, by Mary Tudor Pole.  Margaret Morley’s Song of Life, an American book, which I have not seen, has been