CHAPTER VIII.—SOUTH POLAR POLICE BUREAU.
Next morning my host told me that a gang of robbers had been
arrested the evening before, and if I cared to do so we would go
to the police court to witness the trial.
"Whose house did they break into?" I cried.
He looked at me in astonishment for a moment, and then,
remembering how ignorant I was of the customs of Theon very
courteously concealed his astonishment and explained to me:
"There is seldom any crime committed in this country. The
great mistake nations in other parts of the world make is in
waiting until a crime is committed before steps are taken to
prevent it. You have a proverb about it in your
language—'Locking the stable after the horse is
stolen.'"
"But how can you prevent it?"
"Have you been so long with us and not learned that we are all
mind readers?"
"But," I queried, still far at sea, "you have police
patrolling the streets. I have seen them, and a fine looking body
of men they are."
"Yes, of course. We have our police system, and it is very
nearly perfect. But policemen here are to prevent crime, not to
catch the criminal after it is committed."
"I am sure I do not follow you."
"It is very simple. As I said, we are all mind readers. Now,
if we always knew what man was inclined to rob us we could read
his mind and learn when. But take my case. I cannot spend my time
reading the minds of every person in the city to see if my
property is safe. So we have police to do it for us. They
constantly patrol the streets, reading the minds of those they
meet, and a report is made of each suspect when guard is
relieved, which occurs about every three hours. Of course they do
not mentally interrogate every one they meet on the street, that
would be impossible; but in the course of a month, with the help
of the reserve guard, which is stationed in the inner court,
every person in the city passes under their scrutiny.
"But this attention is centered chiefly upon the 'suspects.'
When a person falls under suspicion he is kept under constant
surveillance. To make it plain to you: While we are sitting here,
suppose I read in your mind that you had a desire to steal my
watch. (I beg your pardon for even hinting at it in way of
illustration.) I would report the fact to the chief of police,
and an officer would be detailed to take you under his
surveillance. Not one thought of yours could be concealed from
him, and if you determined upon the theft, you most likely would
be arrested before you could commit the crime."
"But what would you do with me? I would have done nothing that
a court could sentence me for!"
"You would not be punished. We seldom are called upon to do
that, and when we are, the ceremony is made a very solemn one,
indeed."
"But you have judges and courts equal to any I have ever seen
in America."
"Yes, but not for the same purpose. Let us follow the
illustration of yourself. When you were arrested you would be
taken into the court and your record produced by the policeman
who had been watching you. From this the judge would decide, not
as to your guilt, but as to how far inclined towards crime your
intellect had become, and would sentence you accordingly."
"Still I do not see how that would not be punishing me for
something I had not done."
"Not at all, I assure you. If you were shown to be not really
bad, you would be committed to reformatory No. I, as it is
called. You would not be imprisoned. On the contrary, you would
at once be set at liberty and no restrictions whatever placed
upon you. But you would be under the tutelage of the reserve
judges of the inner court. They are chosen from the purest men
and most powerful minds in the country. In other words, they are
the clergy of the land. To them your case would be made known and
your record given. Each one would take you under his supervision
for an hour a day and would, during that hour, direct the whole
power of his mind upon yours to drive from it every evil thought.
There would not be a moment of the day when their minds were not
working upon yours. It is very seldom that this course does not
succeed in reclaiming the suspect."
"But if it should not?"
"This is seldom the case. But when it does fail, if the man
grows worse, he is committed to the mental hospital and there
given a course of treatment."
"I am curious to hear more."
"He is committed to the hospital for a certain length of time
which the judge determines upon, according to the violence of his
disease. But he is not punished. On the contrary, his
surroundings are the most pleasant. He has pure companions, and
is treated according to his disease."
"His disease? May I ask what you mean?"
"Suppose his disease is drunkenness. The disgrace of it is
placed before him by one physician for an hour. Then succeeds
another who impresses upon his mind the respectability of
sobriety. Other physicians give him general moral tone."
"O, you mean he must spend his time listening to lectures. I
shouldn't think that would be a very good way of reforming a
criminal."
"No, no. Lectures would be the last thing we would think of.
The patient knows nothing of his treatment except that it is
going on. He seldom, if ever, sees his physicians. They, as the
judges in the first case, work upon his mind entirely and try to
drive out the evil and fill it with good thoughts."
"And do they always succeed?"
"If a man sets his will against them he can combat the wills
of his physicians and receive no benefit from their
treatment—if his will is stronger than theirs. We have had
a few such instances."
"And then?"
"They redouble the corps of physicians."
"You spoke of his pleasant surroundings."
"Yes. That is under the supervision of his nurses. Each nurse
has one or more patients under his or her care. They look after
the surroundings, the environments, see that they are proper and
conducive to his reform. And to them a great deal is due. They
become his friends, and attempt to lead him by moral suasion away
from evil. They look after his books. They see to it that time
does not drag or the life in the hospital prove irksome. They
look after his amusement and see that his mind is kept in a
healthy condition, so as to be receptive of good thoughts from
his physicians."
"It all seems very strange to me."
"Yes, no doubt it must to one who has never been taught that
all crime and all evil is a disease which must be treated as such
as much as any ailment of the body."
During this conversation we had been preparing to leave the
house, and at the conclusion of my host's last remark were
walking down the broad path to the gate. As we pursued our way
along the street my mind was busy revolving the things he had
told me. One point seemed a little incongruous, where so much
pains was taken to reform a criminal before he had committed a
crime, it did not seem quite consistent that his case should be
tried in open court and visitors allowed to be present to hear
the evidence, for in my own land when we wish to save a young man
who has been tempted we try most of all to keep his fault from
becoming known. The more I thought of this the more inconsistent
it became and my friend, no doubt reading my thoughts, said:
"Were these not old offenders who are to be tried to-day we
would not be permitted to witness the examination, for when a man
is first brought before the court and sent to reformatory No. I,
the whole proceeding is managed so very quietly that few need
know of it. But after a man has been under the supervision of the
seven judges of the inner court and then turns out bad, we
consider it for the best interests of society that the public at
large know what disease he is inclined to in order to protect
itself against him. The men whose trial we are about to witness
have passed through this stage, and hence their trial will be
public."
When we reached the temple of justice I found a large marble
structure, the interior of which, while very simple in design,
gave one the idea of loftiness and grandeur. At one end, upon a
platform, stood the judge's desk, behind which sat one of the
criminal judges, of which there were ten in the state.
The prisoners were seated in front of him, with no guards
near, at which I expressed my surprise. But my host told me in a
low tone that the odylic force which was being concentrated upon
them was of such power that they could move only as the judge
desired.
There was really little examination of the witnesses
themselves, the principal part of the trial consisting of the
policemen's testimony. As we entered, the sergeant of the platoon
which had the burglars in surveillance was speaking.
"Six months ago," he said, "these men were brought into the
inner court and the records read concerning them. Three at that
time were friends and conspiring to rob. The minds of the others
were tainted with the same disease, but as yet had formed no
combination. Since then I and my division have been keeping them
under constant surveillance. Each possesses a strong will, which
he placed in opposition to that of the seven judges. Three months
ago the whole band drew closer together. They had not at that
time settled upon any particular house to rob, but frequently
held communication with one another upon the injustice of some
men being rich while others were poor, and some men honored with
office while others were but common citizens in a land which
teaches the equality of man. Gradually this idea grew in their
minds until they determined upon an equal division of wealth, and
to carry out this idea decided upon robbing the wealthiest man in
the city. Every preparation had been made and the robbery would
have occurred last night had we not arrested them."
"Is this true?" asked the judge of the prisoners.
"It is," they replied. For in court where there can be no
deceit and where mind reads mind, there are no spoken lies.
Sentence was immediately passed by the judge. The three
original conspirators were committed to ward I of the burglary
hospital, two of the others to ward 2 of the same institution,
and the rest, whose minds were not so badly diseased, to ward 3.
As soon as sentence was passed the men arose and, without guards,
marched directly to the hospital, the odylic force, my host
explaining, compelling them to do so.
Charles Curtz Hahn,