_Take a board with 64 squares on it. Put a grain of wheat on the
first square--two on the second--four on the third. Keep doubling in
this manner and you will find there isn't enough wheat in the world
to fill the sixty-fourth square. It can be the same with compound
interest._
On the 201st day of the year 3221 A.D., the professor of history at the
University of Terra seated himself in front of the Visaphone and
prepared to deliver the daily lecture to his class, the members of which
resided in different portions of the earth.
The instrument before which he seated himself was very like a great
window sash, on account of the fact that there were three or four
hundred frosted glass squares visible. In a space at the center, not
occupied by any of these glass squares, was a dark oblong area and a
ledge holding a piece of chalk. And above the area was a huge brass
cylinder; toward this brass cylinder the professor would soon direct
his subsequent remarks.
In order to assure himself that it was time to press the button which
would notify the members of the class in history to approach their local
Visaphones, the professor withdrew from his vest pocket a small
contrivance which he held to his ear. Upon moving a tiny switch attached
to the instrument, a metallic voice, seeming to come from somewhere in
space, repeated mechanically: "Fifteen o'clock and one minute--fifteen
o'clock and one minute--fifteen o'clock and one min--" Quickly, the
professor replaced the instrument in his vest pocket and pressed a
button at the side of the Visaphone.
As though in answer to the summons, the frosted squares began, one by
one, to show the faces and shoulders of a peculiar type of young men;
young men with great bulging foreheads, bald, toothless, and wearing
immense horn spectacles. One square, however, still remained empty. On
noticing this, a look of irritation passed over the professor's
countenance.
But, seeing that every other glass square but this one was filled up, he
commenced to talk.
"I am pleased, gentlemen, to see you all posted at your local Visaphones
this afternoon. I have prepared my lecture today upon a subject which
is, perhaps, of more economic interest than historical. Unlike the
previous lectures, my talk will not confine itself to the happenings of
a few years, but will gradually embrace the course of ten centuries, the
ten centuries, in fact, which terminated three hundred years before the
present date. My lecture will be an exposition of the effects of the
John Jones Dollar, originally deposited in the dawn of civilization, or
to be more precise, in the year of 1921--just thirteen hundred years
ago. This John Jon--"
At this point in the professor's lecture, the frosted glass square which
hitherto had shown no image, now filled up. Sternly he gazed at the head
and shoulders that had just appeared.
"B262H72476Male, you are late to class again. What excuse have you to
offer today?"
From the hollow cylinder emanated a shrill voice, while the lips of the
picture on the glass square moved in unison with the words:
"Professor, you will perceive by consulting your class book, that I have
recently taken up my residence near the North Pole. For some reason,
wireless communication between the Central Energy Station and all points
north of 89 degrees was cut off a while ago, on account of which fact I
could not appear in the Visaphone. Hence--"
"Enough, sir," roared the professor. "Always ready with an excuse,
B262H72476Male. I shall immediately investigate your tale."
From his coat pocket, the professor withdrew an instrument which,
although supplied with an earpiece and a mouthpiece, had no wires
whatever attached. Raising it to his lips, he spoke:
"Hello. Central Energy Station, please." A pause ensued. "Central Energy
Station? This is the professor of history at the University of Terra,
speaking. One of my students informs me that the North Pole region was
out of communication with the Visaphone System this morning. Is that
statement true? I would--"
A voice, apparently from nowhere, spoke into the professor's ear. "Quite
true, Professor. A train of our ether waves accidently fell into
parallelism with a train of waves from the Venus Substation. By the most
peculiar mischance, the two trains happened to be displaced, with
reference to each other, one half of a wave length, with the unfortunate
result that the negative points of one coincided with the positive
points of maximum amplitude of the other. Hence the two wave trains
nullified each other and communication ceased for one hundred and
eighty-five seconds--until the earth had revolved far enough to throw
them out of parallelism."
"Ah! Thank you," replied the professor. He dropped his instrument into
his coat pocket and gazed in the direction of the glass square whose
image had so aroused his ire. "I apologize, B262H72476Male, for my
suspicions as to your veracity--but I had in mind several former
experiences." He shook a warning forefinger. "I will now resume my
talk."
"A moment ago, gentlemen, I mentioned the John Jones Dollar. Some of you
who have just enrolled with the class will undoubtedly say to
yourselves: 'What is a John Jones? What is a Dollar?'
"In the early days, before the present scientific registration of human
beings was instituted by the National Eugenics Society, man went around
under a crude multi-reduplicative system of nomenclature. Under this
system there were actually more John Joneses than there are calories in
a British Thermal Unit. But there was one John Jones, in particular,
living in the twentieth century, to whom I shall refer in my lecture.
Not much is known of his personal life except that he was an ardent
socialist--a bitter enemy, in fact, of the private ownership of wealth.
"Now as to the Dollar. At this day, when the Psycho-Erg, a combination
of the Psych, the unit of esthetic satisfaction, and the Erg, the unit
of mechanical energy, is recognized as the true unit of value, it seems
difficult to believe that in the twentieth century and for more than ten
centuries thereafter, the Dollar, a metallic circular disk, was being
passed from hand to hand in exchange for the essentials of life.
"But nevertheless, such was the case. Man exchanged his mental or
physical energy for these Dollars. He then re-exchanged the Dollars for
sustenance, raiment, pleasure, and operations for the removal of the
vermiform appendix.
"A great many individuals, however, deposited their Dollars in a
stronghold called a bank. These banks invested the Dollars in loans and
commercial enterprises, with the result that, every time the earth
traversed the solar ecliptic, the banks compelled each borrower to
repay, or to acknowledge as due, the original loan, plus six
one-hundredths of that loan. And to the depositor, the banks paid three
one-hundredths of the deposited Dollars for the use of the disks. This
was known as three percent, or bank interest.
"Now, the safety of Dollars, when deposited in banks, was not absolutely
assured to the depositor. At times, the custodians of these Dollars were
wont to appropriate them and proceed to portions of the earth, sparsely
inhabited and accessible with difficulty. And at other times, nomadic
groups known as 'yeggmen' visited the banks, opened the vaults by force,
and departed, carrying with them the contents.
"But to return to our subject. In the year 1921, one of these numerous
John Joneses performed an apparently inconsequential action which caused
the name of John Jones to go down in history. What did he do?
"He proceeded to one of these banks, known at that time as 'The First
National Bank of Chicago,' and deposited there, one of these disks--a
silver Dollar--to the credit of a certain individual. And this
individual to whose credit the Dollar was deposited was no other person
than the fortieth descendant of John Jones who stipulated in paper which
was placed in the files of the bank, that the descendancy was to take
place along the oldest child of each of the generations which would
constitute his posterity.
"The bank accepted the Dollar under that understanding, together with
another condition imposed by this John Jones, namely, that the interest
was to be compounded annually. That meant that at the close of each
year, the bank was to credit the account of John Jones's fortieth
descendant with three one-hundredths of the account as it stood at the
beginning of the year.
"History tells us little more concerning this John Jones--only that he
died in the year 1931, or ten years afterward, leaving several children.
"Now you gentlemen who are taking mathematics under Professor
L127M72421Male, of the University of Mars, will remember that where any
number such as X, in passing through a progressive cycle of change,
grows at the end of that cycle by a proportion p, then the value of the
original X, after n cycles, becomes X(1 + p)^n.
"Obviously, in this case, X equalled one Dollar; p equalled three
one-hundredths; and n will depend upon any number of years which we care
to consider, following the date of deposit. By a simple calculation,
those of you who are today mentally alert can check up the results that
I shall set forth in my lecture.
"At the time that John Jones died, the amount in the First National Bank
of Chicago to the credit of John Jones the fortieth, was as follows."
The professor seized the chalk and wrote rapidly upon the oblong space: