The baptism washes away a taboo, just as we would wash mud off our fingers before shaking hands with a lady. The water used may or may not be holy or sacred. It really does not matter much. But the cleansing must be effected, and by the imitation of washing. Indeed, the cleansing or purification may be accomplished without the aid of water at all. For in some places it is brought about by sprinkling with salt (Armenia, Georgia, etc.), or by fumigation (Bombe tribes of Central Africa, etc.).
In the well-cures, on the other hand, the water, and not the washing, is the all-important part, the soul, of the rite. The child must be brought into intimate contact with the water, in the well if possible. Infant baptism seldom takes the form of a dipping, it is usually a laving or sprinkling. But in the well-cure the child is stripped and laid in the well, and at the same time is made to drink of the water as copiously as possible,[1] as if it was intended that he should obtain from the water some mystic and vital property of which he stood in need.
What was this mystic and vital property? It was the principle of life.
In order to substantiate this statement, let us see what evidence exists, other than is suggested by the cure of disease, for the vital connection of children with wells. In this further development of our enquiry, I shall extend the scope of our investigations to include water generally—in wells, ponds, brooks, rivers, and in the clouds and sea. We shall come across some interesting facts in folk-lore bearing on this point.
Every child knows where our babies in England have come from. From the gooseberry-bushes, of course! But in Hesse and Halle in Germany they come from the wells![2] The stork brings them no doubt, but where does he get them? In the wells, ponds, rivers, and so
