invalsi Prova 01

William Playfair (1759 -1823) was born in Scotland and grew up in a village near Dundee where his father was a reverend in the Church. William trained as an engineer, while one of his brothers was an architect and another a professor of mathematics at Edinburgh University. Playfair’s first job was working as personal assistant to his fellow Scot, James Watt who, in 1776, invented the Watt steam engine, which was fundamental to the Industrial Revolution due to its rapid incorporation into many industries. Because of Watt’s contribution to science and industry, the “watt”, the unit of power equal to one joule of work, was named after him in the International System of Units.

Inspired by this experience, William spent some time as an inventor himself, then set up a silversmith’s shop in London, which was unsuccessful. From there he went to publishing “The Commercial and Political Atlas” in 1786.
Based on the idea that his newly-invented graphs could communicate data about England’s state finances better than traditional tables, it was the first work ever to contain 43 time-series line graphs and the first ever bar chart.
The graph below shows an 80-year period of England’s imports and exports with Denmark and Norway.

A year after publishing the book, he was in Paris, where he developed a new method of rolling steel to make it thinner. While there, he took part in the storming of the Bastille on 14 July, 1789. He also became involved in a speculative but successful scheme to sell land in the French colony in New York State to Frenchmen wanting to emigrate.

After getting into trouble with the French Revolutionary Government, William narrowly escaped arrest by moving back to London, where he established a bank called the Security Bank. He intended to offer small loans to Londoners, but the finances soon proved to be unsustainable and it was forced to close.

Never one to give up in the face of failure, his next job was as a secret agent. In 1793 Playfair drew up a plan which he presented to Britain’s Secretary of State.
At the time Britain was at war with France and William’s plan was intended to avoid violent confrontation. He believed that the French measured their strength in terms of fighting men and money, so rather than fight, his plan was to attack their pockets and destroy the pieces of ”paper founded upon an iniquitous extortion and a villainous deception”. He suggested fabricating 100 million assignats (French currency) and spreading them in as many ways as possible throughout the whole of France. He was given permission to carry out his plan. The money was fabricated in an English castle and then distributed in France accordingly. By 1795 the French assignat had lost its value and the French government was in chaos. Success at last!

A few years later, in 1801, William published another economics book “Statistical Breviary” which contained what is generally considered the first pie chart (circular graph).

When the Bourbon kings returned to France in 1814, William Playfair returned to Paris, where he edited a journal called “Galignani’s Messenger”, written in English. He found himself in trouble again because of something he published, and had to escape from the country a second time. From then on, he spent the rest of his life writing in London, where he died at the age of sixty-four.

Sitting at the table, the Time Traveller devoted his attention to his dinner, and displayed the appetite of a tramp. The Medical Man smoked a cigarette, and watched the Time Traveller through his eyelashes. The Silent Man seemed even more clumsy than usual, and drank champagne with regularity and determination out of sheer nervousness. At last the Time Traveller pushed his plate away, and looked round us.
‘I suppose I must apologize,’ he said. ‘I was simply starving. I’ve had a most amazing time.’
He reached out his hand for a cigar, and cut the end.
‘But come into the smoking-room. It’s too long a story to tell over greasy plates.’
And ringing the bell in passing, he led the way into the adjoining room.
‘But the thing’s a mere paradox,’ said the Editor.
‘I can’t argue tonight. I don’t mind telling you the story, but I can’t argue. I will,’ he went on, ‘tell you the story of what has happened to me, if you like, but you must refrain from interruptions. I want to tell it. Badly. Most of it will sound like lying. So be it!
It’s true – every word of it, all the same. I was in my laboratory at four o’clock, and since then ... I’ve lived eight days ... such days as no human being ever lived before! I’m nearly worn out, but I shan’t sleep till I’ve told this thing over to you.
Then I shall go to bed. But no interruptions! Is it agreed?’
‘Agreed,’ said the Editor, and the rest of us echoed ‘Agreed.’ And with that the Time Traveller began his story.
‘I told some of you last Thursday of the principles of the Time Machine, and showed you the actual thing itself, incomplete in the workshop. There it is now, a little travel-worn, truly; and one of the ivory bars is cracked, and a brass rail bent; but the rest of it’s sound enough.
It was at ten o’clock today that the first of all Time Machines began its career.
I gave it a last tap, tried all the screws again, put one more drop of oil on the quartz rod, and sat myself in the saddle. I suppose a suicide who holds a pistol to his skull feels much the same wonder at what will come next as I felt then.
I took the starting lever in one hand and the stopping one in the other, pressed the first, and almost immediately the second. I seemed to reel; I felt a nightmare sensation of falling; and, looking round, I saw the laboratory exactly as before. Had anything happened? For a moment I suspected that my intellect had tricked me.
Then I noted the clock. A moment before, as it seemed, it had stood at a minute or so past ten; now it was nearly half-past three! I drew a breath, set my teeth, gripped the starting lever with both hands, and went off with a thud.
The laboratory got hazy and went dark. Mrs. Watchett came in and walked, apparently without seeing me, towards the garden door. I suppose it took her a minute or so to traverse the place, but to me she seemed to shoot across the room like a rocket.
I pressed the lever over to its extreme position. The night came like the turning out of a lamp, and in another moment came tomorrow. The laboratory grew faint and hazy, then fainter and ever fainter. Tomorrow night came black, then day again, night again, day again, faster and faster still. I saw the moon spinning swiftly through her quarters from new to full, and had a faint glimpse of the circling stars.

(from The Time Machine, by H G Wells)