Instant download pdf Thermodynamics for Engineers SI Edition 1st Edition Kroos Solutions Manual full chapter

Thermodynamics for Engineers SI
Edition 1st Edition Kroos Solutions

Manual
Go to download the full and correct content document:
https://testbankfan.com/product/thermodynamics-for-engineers-si-edition-1st-edition-k
roos-solutions-manual/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...
Thermodynamics for Engineers 1st Edition Kroos

Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/thermodynamics-for-engineers-1st-
edition-kroos-solutions-manual/
Principles of Engineering Thermodynamics SI Edition 1st

Edition Reisel Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/principles-of-engineering-
thermodynamics-si-edition-1st-edition-reisel-solutions-manual/
Fundamentals of Chemical Engineering Thermodynamics SI

Edition 1st Edition Dahm Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/fundamentals-of-chemical-
engineering-thermodynamics-si-edition-1st-edition-dahm-solutions-
manual/
VHDL For Engineers 1st Edition Short Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/vhdl-for-engineers-1st-edition-
short-solutions-manual/
Product Design For Engineers 1st Edition Shetty
Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/product-design-for-engineers-1st-
edition-shetty-solutions-manual/
Fluid Mechanics for Engineers 1st Edition Chin

Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/fluid-mechanics-for-
engineers-1st-edition-chin-solutions-manual/
Calculus for Scientists and Engineers 1st Edition

Briggs Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/calculus-for-scientists-and-
engineers-1st-edition-briggs-solutions-manual/
MATLAB Programming with Applications for Engineers 1st

Edition Chapman Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/matlab-programming-with-
applications-for-engineers-1st-edition-chapman-solutions-manual/
Introduction to Renewable Energy for Engineers 1st

Edition Hagen Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/introduction-to-renewable-energy-
for-engineers-1st-edition-hagen-solutions-manual/
Chapter 7 Solutions
7.1 (C) The partial derivative ⁄ of steam at 400°C and 2.5 MPa is estimated to be
⎛ ∂s ⎞ s2 − s1 6.9212 − 7.1271
⎜ ⎟ ≅ = = −0.000206 m3 /kg ⋅ K
⎝ ∂P ⎠T P2 − P1 400°C
3000 − 2000
7.2 (D) The Helmholtz function is given by Eq. 7.3:
a2 − a1 = u2 − T2 s2 − u1 + T1s1
=2926 − 673 × 6.8405 − 2939 + 673 × 7.0148 = 104 kJ/kg
7.3 (C) Use the Clapeyron equation (7.23). Refer to Fig. 7.2 and use P1 = 40 kPa and P2 = 80 kPa. At
60 kPa, T0 = −37.1ºC (236 K) and vfg = 0.31 m3/kg:
dP ΔP h fg 40 − 80 221
= = . = . ∴T2 = 228 K or −45°C
dT v = v0 ΔT v= T0 v fg T2 − 242 236 × 0.31
7.4 (B) Using Eq. 7.53, the Joule-Thompson coefficient is, using the IRC Calculator at h = 1570
kJ/kg (or interpolate for the temperature in Table E-2)
dT T2 − T1 72.7 − 66.1
μj = ≅ = = 0.0165°C/kPa
dP h P2 − P1 h
1600 − 1200
7.5 (D) Use Eq. 7.53 with the information given. We do not need to know the name of the
refrigerant:
dT T −T T − 60
μJ = = 2 1 . 0.08 = 2 . ∴T2 = −90.4°C
dP h P2 − P1 h 120 − 2000
7.6 (A) Because the pressure change is so large and the answers are quite close to each other, the real
gas effects, which require PR and TR, are included:
P1 0.1 T1 283
PR1 = = = 0.026, TR1 = = = 2.13
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
P2 10 T2 283
PR 2 = = = 2.65, TR 2 = = = 2.13
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
Using Fig. I-1, we find
h1 − h1*
≅ 0. ∴ h1 − h1* = 0
Tcr
h2 − h2* 4 × 133
≅ 4. ∴ h2 − h2* = = 18.3 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
Eq. 7.56 then allows the enthalpy change to be determined:
h2 − h1 = (h2 − h2* ) + (h2* − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* )

= 20.6 + C p ΔT − 0 ≅ 21 kJ/kg
125
© 2015 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
7.7 (A) The change in internal energy is found using Eqs. 7.61 and 2.15 with Z values from Appendix
H:
u2 − u1 = h2 − h1 − R ( Z2T2 − Z1T1 )
= 21 − 0.287 × (0.99 × 283 − 1.0 × 283) ≅ 21 kJ/kg
7.8 Using Eq. 7.7, an approximation is
∂v ∂v R RT 0.287 0.287 × 373

dv = dT + dP ≅ ΔT − 2 ΔP = × 20 − × 10 = 0.0260 m3 /kg
∂T ∂P P P 200 2002
Calculating the specific volume change directly (a more accurate value) gives
RT2 RT1 0.287 × 393 0.287 × 373

v2 − v1 = − = − = 0.5371 − 0.53526 = 0.00184 m3 /kg
P2 P1 210 200
7.9 Using Eq. 7.7, an approximation is
∂P ∂P R RT 0.287 0.287 × 353

dP = dT + dv ≅ ΔT − 2 Δv = × (−10) − × 0.02 = −13.8 kPa
∂T ∂v v v 0.5 0.52
Calculating the pressure change directly (a more accurate value) gives
RT2 RT1 0.287 × 353 0.287 × 343

P2 − P1 = − = − = 194.83 − 196.88 = −2.05 kPa
v2 v1 0.52 0.50
∂u ∂u
7.10 Using u = u(s, v) we have du = ∂s ds + ∂v dv = Tds − Pdv . Thus, with M = T and N = − P ,
∂T ∂P
Eq. 7.10 provides Eq. 7.11 which is ∂v = − ∂s .
s v
∂h ∂h
Using h = h(s, P) we have dh = ds + dP = Tds + vdP . Thus, with M = T and N = v ,
∂s ∂P
∂T ∂v
Eq. 7.10 provides Eq. 7.12 which is ∂P = ∂s .
s P
∂a ∂a
7.11 Using a = a(v, T ) we have da = dv + dT = − Pdv − sdT . Thus, with M = − P and N = − s ,
∂v ∂T
∂P ∂s
Eq. 7.10 provides Eq. 7.13 which is ∂T =
v ∂v T .
∂g ∂g
Using g = g( P, T ) we have dg = dP + dT = vdP − sdT . Thus, with M = v and N = − s ,
∂P ∂T
∂v ∂s
Eq. 7.10 provides Eq. 7.14 which is ∂T =−
P ∂P T .
126
∂u ∂u
7.12 Using u = u(s, v) we have du = ds + dv = Tds − Pdv , equate coefficients of ds and dv:
∂s v ∂v s
∂u ∂u
= T and = −P
∂s v ∂v s
∂h ∂h
Using h = h(s, P) we have dh = ds + dP = Tds + vdP , equate coefficients of ds and dP:
∂s P ∂P s
∂h ∂h
= T and =v
∂s P ∂P s
7.13 Equation (7.13) is written in an approximate form:
ΔP Δs ΔP 150 − 100
≅ . ∴Δs ≅ Δv = (1.2 − 0.8) × = −1.0 kJ/kg ⋅ K
ΔT Δv ΔT 180 − 200
7.14 Equation (7.11) is written in an approximate form:
ΔT ΔP ΔP
≅− . ∴Δs ≅ −Δv
Δv Δs ΔT
m3 (500 − 350)kPa
= (0.19 − 0.27) × = −0.8 kJ/kg ⋅ K
kg 80 − 65
7.15 The IRC Calculator is used for the first ratio (central differences are used):
ΔT Δv 414 − 384 0.3541 − 0.2579

≅ . = . 0.15 = 0.150
ΔP s Δs P 1100 − 900 s = 7465 7.762 − 7.122 P =1 MPa
Δv Δs
7.16 a) Use central differences: =−
ΔT P ΔP T
0.05988 − 0.05620 1.1505 − 1.1878

=− . ∴ 0.000184 = 0.000186
110 − 90 P =500 kPa 600 − 400 T =100°C
Δv Δs
b) Use central differences: =−
ΔT P ΔP T
0.0599 − 0.0562 1.15 − 1.19

=− . ∴ 0.00018 = 0.0002
110 − 90 P = 500 kPa 600 − 400 T =100°C
Using the Calculator, significant digits subtract off, i.e., 1.15 – 1.19 = 0.04.
127
Δv Δs
7.17 Use central differences: =−
ΔT P ΔP T
0.0335 − 0.0316 m3 /kg 1.230 − 1.240 kJ/kg-°C

=−
160 − 140 °C P =1000 kPa
(1050 − 950) kPa T =150°C
0.000095 = 0.0001
7.18 Use central differences:
Δh h2 − h1 1577.7 − 1533.2
≅ T. ≅ T. = 313 K or 40.1°C
Δs P s2 − s1 P = 200 kPa
6.1512 − 6.0091
7.19 Use central differences:
Δh h2 − h1 ? 3481 − 3056
≅ T. = T. = 670 K or 397°C
a) Δs P s2 − s1 P
7.867 − 7.233 800 kPa
Δh h2 − h1 ? 3480 − 3060
≅ T. = T. = 660 K or 390°C
b) Δs P s2 − s1 P
7.87 − 7.23 800 kPa
Observe that only two significant digits result with the Calculator.
7.20 At 6 MPa and 450°C the IRC Calculator gives u = 2990 kJ/kg, v = 0.0522 m3/kg or ρ = 19.16
kg/m3. Using central differences,
Δu u −u ? 3000 − 2980
≅ T. 2 1 = T. = 666 K or 400°C
Δs v s2 − s1 v 6.740 − 6.710 ρ =19.16 kg/m3
Here the interpolation is used between the internal energy values of 3000 kJ/kg and 2980 kJ/kg.
Within the permitted interpolation of central difference approximation, it is indeed true.
RT 0.462 × 333.1
7.21 Assuming an ideal gas, we find v = = = 7.69 m3 /kg . This compares with 7.65
P 20
m3/kg from Table C-2, an error of only 0.5%. The ideal gas assumption would be quite
acceptable.
RT 0.462 × 372.6
At 100 kPa, we find v = = = 1.72 m3 /kg. This compares with 1.69 m3/kg, an
P 100
error of less than 2%, still acceptable as an ideal gas.
dP h fg ΔP 9856 − 7436
= . ∴ h fg ≅ T0 v fg = 573 × (0.02168 − 0.001404) × = 1406 kJ/kg
7.22 dT
v = v0 T0 v fg ΔT 310 − 290
h fg 1406
s fg = = = 2.453 kJ/kg ⋅ K
T0 573
The errors are
1406 − 1405 2.453 − 2.451

h fg error = ×100 = 0.071% and s fg error = × 100 = 0.081%
1405 2.451
128
dP h fg ΔP
7.23 = . ∴ h fg ≅ T0 v fg
dT v = v0 T0 v fg ΔT
(571.60 − 442.94)
= 289 × (0.0405 − 0.000806) × = 184.49 kJ/kg
20 − 12
h fg 184.49
s fg = = = 0.6384 kJ/kg ⋅ K
T0 289
The errors are
184.52 − 184.49 0.6381 − 0.6384

h fg error = × 100 = 0.02% and s fg error = × 100 = 0.05%
184.52 0.6381
P2 h fg ⎛ 1 1 ⎞
7.24 Use the equation ln = ⎜ − ⎟.
P1 R ⎝ T1 T2 ⎠
a) An average hfg is required. Let us use P1 = 0.6 kPa so the average hfg is close to the value at
0.3 kPa:
0.4 2501.3 kJ/kg ⎛ 1 1 ⎞
ln = ⎜ − ⎟ . ∴T2 = 267.54K or −5.5°C
0.6 0.462 kJ/kg ⋅ K ⎝ 273.01 K T2 ⎠
b) An average hfg is required. Let us use P1 = 0.6 kPa so the average hfg is close to the value at
0.3 kPa:
0.3 2501.3 kJ/kg ⎛ 1 1 ⎞
ln = ⎜ − ⎟ . ∴T2 = 263.8K or −9.2°C
0.6 0.462 kJ/kg ⋅ K ⎝ 273.01 K T2 ⎠
c) An average hfg is required. Let us use P1 = 0.6 kPa so the average hfg is close to the value at
0.3 kPa:
0.2 2501.3 kJ/kg ⎛ 1 1 ⎞
ln = ⎜ − ⎟ . ∴T2 = 258.7 K or −14.3°C
0.6 0.462 kJ/kg ⋅ K ⎝ 273.01 K T2 ⎠
7.25 Using Pv = RT so that

∂P R
Eq. 7.33: T −P =T −P = P−P = 0
∂T v v
∂v R
Eq. 7.39: v −T = v −T =v−v =0
∂T P P
7.26 With Pv = RT, we find
Cv ⎛ ∂P ⎞ Cv R T v
ds = dT + ⎜ ⎟ dv = dT + dv. ∴Δs = Cv ln 2 + R ln 2
T ⎝ ∂T ⎠v T v T1 v1
Cp ⎛ ∂v ⎞ Cp R T P
ds = dT − ⎜ ⎟ dP = dT − dP. ∴Δs = C p ln 2 − R ln 2
T ⎝ ∂T ⎠P T P T1 P1
129
RT a ∂P R
7.27 Use Eq. 7.33 to find du. Van der Waals equation is P = v − b − 2 . ∴ ∂T = v − b .
v v
⎡ ⎛ ∂P ⎞ ⎤ ⎡ RT RT a⎤ a
Then du = Cv dT + ⎢T ⎜ ⎟ − P ⎥ dv = Cv dT + ⎢ − + 2 ⎥ dv = CvdT + 2 dv
⎣ ⎝ ∂T ⎠v ⎦ ⎣v − b v −b v ⎦ v
⎛1 1 ⎞
Integrate: Δu = Cv (T2 − T1 ) + a ⎜ v − v ⎟
⎝ 1 2 ⎠
7.28 Follow the steps of Problem 7.27 to find Δu (it would be very difficult to find Δh directly by
integrating Eq. 7.39). Then, using h = u + Pv, there results
Δh = Δu + P2 v2 − P1v1
⎛1 1 ⎞
= Cv (T2 − T1 ) + a ⎜ − ⎟ + P2 v2 − P1v1
⎝ v1 v2 ⎠
2 −1
⎛ ∂P ⎞ ⎛ ∂v ⎞ RT a ∂v ⎛ ∂T ⎞
7.29 Determine C p − Cv = = − T ⎜ ∂v ⎟ ⎜ ∂T ⎟ if P = − 2 . Use =⎜ ⎟ :
⎝ ⎠T ⎝ ⎠P v−b v ∂T P ⎝ ∂v P⎠
P a v−b ∂T P a v 2 − (v − b)2v P 2ab − av

Write T = R (v − b) + R 2 so that ∂v = + = + . Then
v P R R v4 R Rv3
2
⎡ RT 2 2aT ⎤ ⎡ Rv3 ⎤
C p − Cv = ⎢ 2
− 3 ⎥⎢ 3 ⎥
⎣⎢ ( v − b) v ⎥⎦ ⎣⎢ Pv + 2ab − av ⎦⎥
Let a = 0 and b = 0. There results, recognizing that RT/vP = 1,
2 2
⎡ RT 2 2aT ⎤ ⎡ Rv3 ⎤ RT 2 R 2 v 6 ⎛ RT ⎞
Cp − Cv = ⎢ 2
− 3 ⎥⎢ 3 ⎥ = 2 × 2 6 = R⎜ ⎟
⎣⎢ ( v − b) v ⎦⎥ ⎣⎢ Pv + 2ab − av ⎦⎥ v P v ⎝ vP ⎠
=R
7.30 To find the enthalpy change, first the internal energy change is found. The first integral in Eq.
7.33 is zero since T2 = T1. The second integral is simplified using the van der Waals equation so
that
v2
∫
⎡ RT RT a ⎤ ⎛1 1 ⎞
u2 − u1 = ⎢ − + 2 ⎥ dv = 0.163 ⎜ − ⎟
⎣ v − b v − b v ⎦ ⎝ 1
v v 2⎠
v1
where a = 0.163 is found in Table B-10. The values of v1 and v2 are found using van der Waals
equation knowing the pressure and temperature and using a trial-and-error procedure:
0.287 × 373 0.163

200 = − 2 . ∴ v1 = 0.540 m3 /kg
v1 − 0.00127 v1
0.287 × 373 0.163
6000 = − 2 . ∴ v2 = 0.0176 m3 /kg
v2 − 0.00127 v2
130
The internal energy change and consequently the enthalpy change are then
⎛ 1 1 ⎞
u2 − u1 = 0.163 ⎜ − ⎟ = −9.0 kJ/kg
⎝ 0.540 0.0176 ⎠
h2 − h1 = u2 − u1 + P2 v2 − P1v1 = − 9.0 + 6000 × 0.0176 − 200 × 0.540 = −11.4 kJ/kg
The entropy change is found using Eq. 7.41. Following the steps for Δu, we find
v2
R v −b 0.0176 − 0.00127
s2 − s1 = ∫ dv = R ln 2 = 0.287 × ln = −1.00 kJ/kg ⋅ K
v1 v−b v1 − b 0.540 − 0.00127
Assuming constant specific heats, we find

P2 6000
Δu = C v ΔT = Δh = C p ΔT = 0 and Δs = − R ln = −0.287 × ln = −0.976 kJ/kg ⋅ K
P1 200
The assumption of constant specific heats is quite acceptable for the conditions of this
problem.
7.31 The entropy change due to temperature and pressure changes is
T2
ΔS = mC p ln − mβ v( P2 − P1 )
T1
J 373 1 1 N
= 50 kg × 900 × ln − 50 kg × (7 × 10−5 ) × (50 − 0.1) × 106 2 = 6415 J/K
kg ⋅ K 323 K 2700 kg/m 3
m
That due to the pressure change is −64.6 J/K whereas that due to the temperature change is
6480 J/K. The entropy change due to the pressure change is significant only for very small
temperature changes.
7.32 Always use central differences when estimating derivatives.
1 ⎛ ∂v ⎞ 1 Δv 1 0.0010127 − 0.000997
β= ⎜ ⎟ ≅ = × = 3.86 × 10−4 K −1
v ⎝ ∂T ⎠ P v ΔT 0.001003 60 − 20
⎛ ∂P ⎞ ΔP 15 000 − 5000
B = −v ⎜ ⎟ ≅ −v = −0.001003 × = 2.33 × 106 kPa
∂
⎝ ⎠T
v Δv 0.0010013 − 0.0010056
m3 kN 1
C p − C v = vTBβ 2 = 0.001003 × 313 K × (2.33 × 106 ) 2 × (3.86 × 10−4 ) 2 2 = 0.109 kJ/kg ⋅ K
kg m K
7.33 Always use central differences when estimating derivatives.
1 ⎛ ∂v ⎞ 1 Δv 1 0.001010 − 0.001000
β= ⎜ ⎟ ≅ = × = 2.5 × 10−4 K −1
v ⎝ ∂T ⎠ P v ΔT 0.001004 60 − 20
⎛ ∂P ⎞ ΔP 9000 − 5000
B = −v ⎜ ⎟ ≅ −v = −0.001004 × = 1.3 × 106 kPa
⎝ ∂v ⎠T Δv 0.001003 − 0.001006
C p − C v = vTBβ 2
m3
( ) 1
2
= 0.001004 × 313K × (1.3 × 106 kPa) × 2.5 × 10 −4 = 0.0255 kJ/kg ⋅ K
` kg K2
131
1 ⎛ ∂v ⎞ 1 Δv 1 0.000815 − 0.000735
7.34 β = v ⎜ ∂T ⎟ ≅ v ΔT = 0.000771 × = 0.26 × 10−4 K −1
⎝ ⎠P 20 − (−20)
⎛ ∂P ⎞ ΔP 1100 − 500
B = −v ⎜ ⎟ ≅ −v = −0.000771× = 0.23 × 106 kPa
∂
⎝ ⎠T
v Δv 0.00077 − 0.000772
C p − C v = vTBβ 2
m3 kN 1
= 0.000771 × 273 K × (0.23 × 106 ) 2 × (0.26 × 10 −4 ) 2 2 = 3.3 × 10 −5 kJ/kg ⋅ K
kg m K
7.35 Use forward differences by using a pressure at 350 kPa and x = 0. The enthalpy must be held
constant at 58 600 J/kg. The IRC calculator at 58 600 J/kg and 250 kPa, gives T2 = −4.28°C. At
h = 58 600 J/kg and 350 kPa, we find T = 4.99°C. Using the definition of the Joule-Thompson
coefficient, there results
ΔT T2 − T1 −4.28 − 4.99
μJ ≅ = = = 0.093 °C/kPa
ΔP h P2 − P1 h
250 − 350
The finite difference does not allow for more accuracy in the answer.
a) Using the μJ calculated, we find
T2 − T1 T2 − 8
μ J = 0.093 = = . ∴T2 = −20°C
P2 − P1 100 − 400
b) Using the μJ calculated, we find
T2 − T1 T − 21
μ J = 0.093 = = 2 . ∴T2 = −25°C
P2 − P1 100 − 600
c) Using the μJ calculated, we find
T2 − T1 T − 31
μ J = 0.093 = = 2 . ∴T2 = −34°C
P2 − P1 100 − 800
7.36 Use forward differences by using a pressure at 1000 kPa and x = 0. The Calculator gives 39.4°C
and h = 107 000 L/kg. The Calculator at 107 000 J/kg and 800 kPa, gives T2 = 31.3°C. Using
the definition of the Joule-Thompson coefficient, there results
ΔT T −T 31.4 − 39.4
μJ ≅ = 2 1 = = 0.041 °C/kPa
ΔP h P2 − P1 h
800 − 1000
The finite difference does not allow for more accuracy in the answer. Using the μJ calculated,
we find
T −T T − 67
μ J = 0.041 = 2 1 = 2 . ∴T2 = −11°C
P2 − P1 100 − 2000
132
7.37 At 400°C and an average pressure of 600 kPa, the IRC Calculator gives h = 685 000 J/kg so
ΔT T2 − T1 400 − 400
μJ ≅ = = = 0.0 °C/kPa
ΔP h P2 − P1 h
1000 − 800
The enthalpy depends on temperature only so the Joule-Thompson coefficient for air, an ideal
gas, is zero.
7.38 At 4 MPa and 400ºC, Table C-3 gives 3214 kJ/kg. The Joule-Thompson coefficient is then
estimated to be
ΔT 407 − 392
μJ ≅ = = 0.0075 °C/kPa
ΔP h 5000 − 3000
1 ⎡ ⎛ ∂v ⎞ ⎤ 1 ⎡ 0.08002 − 0.06645 ⎤
Cp = ⎢T ⎜ ⎟ − v⎥ = ⎢ 673 × − 0.07341⎥ = 2.39 kJ/kg ⋅ K
so that μ j ⎣ ⎝ ∂T ⎠ P ⎦ 0.0075 ⎣ 450 − 350 ⎦
⎛ ∂h ⎞ Δh 3330 − 3092
Using C p = (∂h /∂T ) P there results Cp = ⎜ ⎟ ≅ = = 2.38 kJ/kg ⋅ K
⎝ ∂T ⎠ P ΔT 4 MPa 450 − 350
7.39 At 6 MPa and 450°C, Table C-3 gives h = 3300 kJ/kg. The Joule-Thompson coefficient is then
estimated to be
ΔT 455 − 445
μJ ≅ = = 0.006 o C/kPa
ΔP h (7060 − 5370)
so that
1 ⎡ ⎛ ∂v ⎞ ⎤ 1 ⎡ 0.05665 − 0.04739 ⎤
C p = ⎢T ⎜ ⎟ − v⎥ = ⎢ 723 × − 0.05214 ⎥ = 2.46 kJ/kg ⋅ K
μ j ⎣ ⎝ ∂T ⎠ P ⎦ 0.006 ⎣ 500 − 400 ⎦
⎛ ∂h ⎞ Δh 3422 − 3177
Using C p = (∂h /∂T ) P there results C p = ⎜ ⎟ ≅ = = 2.45 kJ/kg ⋅ K
⎝ ∂T ⎠ P ΔT 6000 kPa 500 − 400
7.40 a) Using Table F-1for air, h2 − h1 = 844 − 260.1 = 584 kJ/kg .

Using the enthalpy departure chart of Fig. I-1, we need
P1 0.9 T1 260
PR1 = = = 0.24, TR1 = = = 1.95
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
P 4 T 820
PR 2 = 2 = = 1.06, TR 2 = 2 = = 6.2
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
Using values from the chart, the enthalpy differences are

h1* − h1 0.1× 133
≅ 0.1 ∴ h1* − h1 = = 0.46 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
h2* − h2 0 × 133
≅0 ∴ h2* − h2 = = 0 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
The enthalpy difference between state 1 and state 2 is found using Eqs. 7.56 to be
h2 − h1 = (h2 − h2* ) + (h2* − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* ) = −0 + 584 + 0.46 = 584 kJ/kg
133
b) Using Table F-1, h2 − h1 = 220 − 360.6 = −140.6 kJ/kg .
P1 0.9 T1 360
PR1 = = = 0.24, TR1 = = = 2.71
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
P2 8 T2 220
PR 2 = = = 2.12, TR 2 = = = 1.65
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
h1* − h1 0 × 133
≅0 ∴ h1* − h1 = = 0 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
h2* − h2 7 × 133
≅7 ∴ h2* − h2 = = 32.1 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
h2 − h1 = ( h2 − h2* ) + (h*2 − h1* ) − ( h1 − h1* ) = −32.1 − 140.6 − 0 = −173 kJ/kg
c) Using Table F-1, h2 − h1 = 607 − 300.2 = 307 kJ/kg . Using the enthalpy departure chart of
Fig. I-1, we need
P1 0.2 T1 300
PR1 = = = 0.53, TR1 = = = 2.26
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
P2 10 T2 600
PR 2 = = = 2.65, TR 2 = = = 4.51
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
h1* − h1 0.05 × 133

≅ 0.05 ∴ h1* − h1 = = 0.23 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
h2* − h2 1× 133
≅1 ∴ h*2 − h2 = = 4.6 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
h2 − h1 = (h2 − h2* ) + (h2* − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* ) = −4.6 + 307 + 0.23 = 303 kJ/kg
134
9431 − 10186
7.41 a) Using Table F-4, h2 − h1 = = −17.2 kJ/kg .
44
P1 0.8 T1 320
PR1 = = = 0.11, TR1 = = = 1.05
Pcr 7.39 Tcr 304
P2 6 T2 300
PR 2 = = = 0.81, TR 2 = = = 0.99
Pcr 7.39 Tcr 304
h1* − h1 0.08 × 304

= 0.08 ∴ h1* − h1 = = 0.55 kJ/kg
Tcr 44
h2* − h2 12 × 304
= 12 ∴ h2* − h2 = = 82.9 kJ/kg
Tcr 44
h2 − h1 = (h2 − h2* ) + (h2* − h1* ) − ( h1 − h1* ) = −82.9 − 17.2 + 0.55 = −99.5 kJ/kg
13 372 − 13 372
b) Using Table F-4, h2 − h1 = = 0 kJ/kg .
44
P1 2 T1 400
PR1 = = = 0.27, TR1 = = = 1.32
Pcr 7.39 Tcr 304
P2 12 T2 400
PR 2 = = = 1.62, TR 2 = = = 1.32
Pcr 7.39 Tcr 304
h1* − h1 1.5 × 304

= 1.5 ∴ h1* − h1 = = 10.4 kJ/kg
Tcr 44
h2* − h2 8.5 × 304
= 8.5 ∴ h*2 − h2 = = 58.7 kJ/kg
Tcr 44
h2 − h1 = (h2 − h2* ) + (h*2 − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* ) = −58.7 + 0 + 10.4 = −48.3 kJ/kg
135
37 405 − 17 678
c) Using Table F-4, h2 − h1 = = 448 kJ/kg .
44
P1 0.4 T1 500
PR1 = = = 0.054, TR1 = = = 1.64
Pcr 7.39 Tcr 304
P2 10 T2 900
PR 2 = = = 1.35, TR 2 = = = 2.96
Pcr 7.39 Tcr 304
h1* − h1 0 × 304
=0 ∴ h1* − h1 = = 0 kJ/kg
Tcr 44
h2* − h2 1 × 304
=1 ∴ h*2 − h2 = = 6.9 kJ/kg
Tcr 44
h2 − h1 = (h2 − h2* ) + (h2* − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* ) = −6.9 + 448 + 0 = 441 kJ/kg
7.42 a) Using Table F-1,
P2 7.0
Δs = s2o − s1o − R ln = 2.8365 − 1.66802 − 0.287 ln = 0.685 kJ/kg ⋅ K
P1 1.3
Using the entropy departure chart of Fig. J-1, we need
P1 1.3 MPa T1 290

PR1 = = = 0.34, TR1 = = = 2.2
Pcr 3.77 MPa Tcr 133
P2 7.0 MPa T2 890
PR 2 = = = 1.85, TR 2 = = = 6.7
Pcr 3.77MPa Tcr 133
Using values from the chart, the entropy differences are s1* − s1 = 0 and s*2 − s2 = 0 .
The entropy difference between state 1 and state 2 is found using Eq. 7.63 to be
s2 − s1 = (s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0 + 0.685 + 0 = 0.685 kJ/kg ⋅ K
b) Using Table F-1,
P2 20000
Δs = s2o − s1o − R ln
= 2.9736 − 1.8060 − 0.287 ln = 0.4765 kJ/kg ⋅ K
P1 1800
P1 1.8 MPa T1 333

PR1 = = = 0.48, TR1 = = = 2.5
P2 20.0 MPa T2 1000
PR 2 = = = 5.3, TR 2 = = = 7.5
Pcr 3.77MPa Tcr 133
136
Using values from the chart, the entropy differences are
s1* − s1 = 0, ∴ s1* − s1 = 0. s2* − s2 = 0, ∴ s*2 − s2 = 0
s2 − s1 = (s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0 + 0.476 + 0 = 0.476 kJ/kg ⋅ K
P2 28000
c) Using Table F-1, Δs = s2o − s1o − R ln = 1.518 − 1.391 − 0.287 ln = −0.9317 kJ/kg ⋅ K
P1 700
P1 0.7 MPa T1 220

PR1 = = = 0.18, TR1 = = = 1.65
P2 28.0 MPa T2 250
PR 2 = = = 7.43, TR 2 = = = 1.88
Pcr 3.77MPa Tcr 133
s1* − s1 = 0, ∴ s1* − s1 = 0. s2* − s2 = 0.172, ∴ s*2 − s2 = 0.172
s2 − s1 = (s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0.172 − 0.9317 + 0 = 1.104 kJ/kg ⋅ K
7.43 a) Using Table F-2,
s2o − s1o P 220.91 − 187.51 4000

Δs = − R ln 2 = − 0.297 ln = 0.75 kJ/kg ⋅ K
M P1 28 900
P1 0.9 T1 400
PR1 = = = 0.27, TR1 = = = 3.2
Pcr 3.39 Tcr 126
P2 4 T2 440
PR 2 = = = 1.2, TR 2 = = = 3.5
Pcr 3.39 Tcr 126

0
s1* − s1 = 0 kJ/kmol ⋅ K, ∴ s1* − s1 = = 0 kJ/kg ⋅ K
28
0.2
s2* − s2 ≅ 0.2 kJ/kmol ⋅ K, ∴ s*2 − s2 = = 0.007 kJ/kg ⋅ K
28
s2 − s1 = (s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0.007 + 0.750 + 0 = 0.743 kJ/kg ⋅ K
137
b) Using Table F-2,
s2o − s1o P 216.8 − 196.2 8000

Δs = − R ln 2 = − 0.297 ln = 0.173 kJ/kg ⋅ K
M P1 28 1200
P1 1.2 T1 350
PR1 = = = 0.35, TR1 = = = 2.8
Pcr 3.39 Tcr 126
P2 8 T2 700
PR 2 = = = 2.4, TR 2 = = = 5.6
Pcr 3.39 Tcr 126

0
28
0
s2* − s2 = 0 kJ/kmol ⋅ K, ∴ s*2 − s2 = = 0.007 kJ/kg ⋅ K
28
s2 − s1 = (s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0 + 0.173 + 0 = 0.173 kJ/kg ⋅ K
c) Using Table F-2,
s2o − s1o P 182.6 − 206.6 10

Δs = − R ln 2 = − 0.297 ln = −1.37 kJ/kg ⋅ K
M P1 28 1.8
P1 1.8 T1 500
PR1 = = = 0.53, TR1 = = = 4.0
Pcr 3.39 Tcr 126
P2 10 T2 220
PR 2 = = = 2.9, TR 2 = = = 1.75
Pcr 3.39 Tcr 126

0
28
3
28
s2 − s1 = (s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0.107 − 1.37 + 0 = −1.48 kJ/kg ⋅ K
7.44 i) The ideal gas equations for air assuming constant specific heats result in
Δh = h2 − h1 = Cp ΔT = 1.0 × (900 − 400) = 500 kJ/kg

T2 P 900 12
Δs = s2 − s1 = C p ln − R ln 2 = 1.0 × ln − 0.287 × ln = −0.364 kJ/kg ⋅ K
T1 P1 400 0.2
138
ii) The ideal gas equations for air assuming constant specific heats from Table B-6 result in
Δh = h2 − h1 = Cp ΔT = 1.063 × (900 − 400) = 531 kJ/kg

T2 P 900 12
T1 P1 400 0.2
iii) The ideal gas Table F-1, which allows for variable specific heats, provides
h2 − h1 = 932.9 − 401 = 532 kJ/kg

P2 12
s2 − s1 = s2o − s1o − R ln = 2.849 − 1.992 − 0.287 × ln = −0.318 kJ/kg ⋅ K
P1 0.2
iv) Using the enthalpy departure chart of Fig. I-1, we need
P1 0.2 T1 400
PR1 = = = 0.053, TR1 = = = 3.0
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
P2 12 T2 900
PR 2 = = = 3.2, TR 2 = = = 6.8
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
h1* − h1 h2* − h2
= 0, ∴ h1* − h1 = 0 kJ/kg. = 0, ∴ h*2 − h2 = 0 kJ/kg
Tcr Tcr
0
29
0
s2* − s2 = 0 kJ/kmol ⋅ K, ∴ s*2 − s2 = = 0 kJ/kg ⋅ K
29
The property differences between state 1 and state 2 are found to be
h2 − h1 = ( h2 − h*2 ) + (h2* − h1* ) − ( h1 − h1* ) = 0 + 531 + 0 = 531 kJ/kg

s2 − s1 = (s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = 0 − 0.318 + 0 = −0.318 kJ/kg ⋅ K
v) The IRC Calculator gives
h2 − h1 = 940 − 398 = 542 kJ/kg

s2 − s1 = 6.64 − 6.95 = −0.31 kJ/kg ⋅ K
7.45 i) The ideal gas equations for air assuming constant specific heats from Table B-2 result in
Δh = h2 − h1 = Cp ΔT = 1.0 × (300 − 220) = 80 kJ/kg

T2 P 300 10
T1 P1 220 0.2
ii) The ideal gas Table F-1, which allows for variable specific heats, provides
h2 − h1 = 300.2 − 220 = 80.2 kJ/kg

P2 10
s2 − s1 = s2o − s1o − R ln = 1.702 − 1.391 − 0.287 × ln = −0.812 kJ/kg ⋅ K
P1 0.2
139
iii) Use the enthalpy departure chart of Fig. I-1 and the entropy chart of Fig. J-1:
P1 0.2 T1 220
PR1 = = = 0.053, TR1 = = = 1.65
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
P2 10 T2 300
PR 2 = = = 2.65 TR 2 = = = 2.26
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
h1* − h1 0.02 × 133

= 0.02, ∴ h1* − h1 = = 0.09 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
h2* − h2 2.5 × 133
= 2.5, ∴ h*2 − h2 = = 11.5 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
0
29
2
29
h2 − h1 = (h2 − h2* ) + (h2* − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* ) = −11.5 + 80.2 + 0.09 = 68.8 kJ/kg
s2 − s1 = (s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0.069 − 0.812 + 0 = −0.881 kJ/kg ⋅ K
v) The IRC Calculator gives
h2 − h1 = 280 − 220 = 60 kJ/kg

s2 − s1 = 5.49 − 6.36 = −0.87 kJ/kg ⋅ K
7.46 i) Using constant specific heats for nitrogen from Table B-2 result in
Δh = h2 − h1 = C p ΔT = 1.042 × (280 − 220) = 62.5 kJ/kg

T2 P 280 20
T1 P1 220 2
ii) The ideal gas equations for air assuming constant specific heats from Table B-6 result in
Δh = h2 − h1 = Cp ΔT = 1.039 × (280 − 220) = 62.3 kJ/kg

T2 P 280 20
T1 P1 220 2
iii) The ideal gas Table F-2, which allows for variable specific heats, provides
8141 − 6391
h2 − h1 =
= 62.5 kJ/kg
28
s o − so P 189.67 − 182.64 20
s2 − s1 = 2 1 − R ln 2 = − 0.297 × ln = −0.433 kJ/kg ⋅ K
M P1 28 2
140
iv) Use the enthalpy departure chart of Fig. I-1 and the entropy chart of Fig. J-1:
P1 2 T1 220
PR1 = = = 0.59, TR1 = = = 1.75
Pcr 3.39 Tcr 126
P2 20 T2 280
PR 2 = = = 5.9 TR 2 = = = 2.2
Pcr 3.39 Tcr 126
h1* − h1 1.5 × 126

≅ 1.5, ∴ h1* − h1 = = 6.75 kJ/kg
Tcr 28
h2* − h2 8 × 126
≅ 8, ∴ h2* − h2 = = 36 kJ/kg
Tcr 28
0.5
s1* − s1 = 0.5 kJ/kmol ⋅ K, ∴ s1* − s1 = = 0.018 kJ/kg ⋅ K
28
3
28
h2 − h1 = (h2 − h*2 ) + (h*2 − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* ) = −36 + 62.5 + 6.75 = 33 kJ/kg
s2 − s1 = ( s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − ( s1 − s1* ) = −0.107 − 0.433 + 0.018 = 0.522 kJ/kg ⋅ K
7.47 i) Using constant specific heats for carbon dioxide from Table B-2 result in
Δh = h2 − h1 = Cp ΔT = 0.842 × (500 − 353) = 123.8 kJ/kg
Δu = u2 − u1 = C v ΔT = 0.653 × (500 − 353) = 96.0 kJ/kg
T2 P 500 20000
Δs = s2 − s1 = C p ln − R ln 2 = 0.842 × ln − 0.1889 × ln = 0.0657 kJ/kg ⋅ K
T1 P1 353 6000
ii) The ideal gas Table F-4, which allows for variable specific heats, provides
17678 − 11471
h2 − h1 = = 141.1 kJ/kg
44
13521 − 8534
u2 − u1 = = 113.3 kJ/kg
44
s2o − s1o P 234.81 − 220.16 20000
s2 − s1 = − R ln 2 = − 0.1889 × ln = 0.1055 kJ/kg ⋅ K
M P1 44 6000
141
iii) Use the enthalpy departure chart of Fig. I-1 and the entropy chart of Fig. J-1:
P1 6 T1 353
PR1 = = = 0.81, TR1 = = = 1.2
Pcr 7.39 Tcr 304.2
P2 20 T2 500
PR 2 = = = 2.7 TR 2 = = = 1.6
Pcr 7.39 Tcr 304.2
h1* − h1 6 × 304.2
≅ 6, ∴ h1* − h1 = = 41.5 kJ/kg
Tcr 44
h2* − h2 9 × 304.2
≅ 9, ∴ h2* − h2 = = 62 kJ/kg
Tcr 44
3
s1* − s1 = 3 kJ/kmol ⋅ K, ∴ s1* − s1 = = 0.068 kJ/kg ⋅ K
44
4.0
s2* − s2 = 4.0 kJ/kmol ⋅ K, ∴ s*2 − s2 = = 0.091 kJ/kg ⋅ K
44
The property differences between state 1 and state 2 are found, using Appendix H for Δu, to be
h2 − h1 = (h2 − h2* ) + (h2* − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* ) = −62 + 141.1 + 41.5 = 120.6 kJ/kg
u2 − u1 = Δh − R ( Z2T2 − Z1T1 ) = 120.6 − 0.189 × (0.83 × 500 − 0.89 × 353) = 101.5 kJ/kg
s2 − s1 = (s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0.091 + 0.1055 + 0.068 = 0.082 kJ/kg ⋅ K
7.48 i) For maximum power output, an isentropic process is assumed:
P2 0.1
s2 − s1 = s2o − s1o − R ln = 0. ∴ s2o = 3.077 + 0.287 × ln = 1.756 kJ/kg ⋅ K
P1 10
o
Interpolation in Table F-1 at s2 = 1.756 kJ/kg ⋅ K gives h2 = 317 kJ/kg so the maximum power
output, assuming an ideal gas (h1 is found at 1100 K in Table F-1), is
=m
W (h1 − h2 ) = 4 × (1161 − 317) = 3380 kW
T
ii) Assuming real gas effects are significant, we use the equations of Section 7.5. For maximum
power output, an isentropic turbine is assumed:
P1 10 T1 1100 P2 0.1
PR1 = = = 2.7, TR1 = = = 8.3, PR 2 = = = 0.027
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133 Pcr 3.77
Obviously state 1 has no real-gas effects since TR1 is so high and state 2 has no real-gas effects
since PR2 is so low. Hence, there are no real-gas effects and the power is the same as in part (i)
at
= 3380 kW
WT
142
7.49 i) For minimum power input, an isentropic process is assumed:
P2 8
s2 − s1 = s2o − s1o − R ln = 0. ∴ s2o = 1.702 + 0.287 × ln = 2.960 kJ/kg ⋅ K
P1 0.1
o
Interpolation in Table F-1 at s2 = 2.960 kJ/kg ⋅ K gives h2 = 1054 kJ/kg (at 1007 K) so the
maximum power input, assuming an ideal gas (h1 is found at 300 K in Table F-1), is
=m
W (h2 − h1 ) = 2 × (1054 − 300.2) = 1508 kW
C
ii) Assuming real gas effects are significant, we use the equations of Section 7.5. For maximum
power output, an isentropic turbine is assumed:
P1 0.1 T1 300 P2 8
PR1 = = = 0.027, TR1 = = = 2.3, PR 2 = = = 2.12
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133 Pcr 3.77
Obviously state 1 has no real-gas effects since PR1 is so low and the temperature at state 2
would be relatively close to that found in Part (i) at 1000 K giving TR2 ≅ 7.5, too high to have
an effect. Hence, there are no real-gas effects and the power is the same as in part (i) at
= 1508 kW
WC
7.50 i) Assuming air to be an ideal gas, the ideal gas law Pv = RT gives
T2 1200
P2 = P1 = 400 × = 1600 kPa
T1 300
ii) Assuming real gas effects are significant, we use the equations of Section 7.5. Let us assume
the final state is that predicted by the ideal gas in Part (i). Then
P1 0.4 T1 300
PR1 = = = 0.11, TR1 = = = 2.3
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
P2 1.6 T2 1200
PR 2 = = = 0.42, TR 2 = = = 9.0
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
By checking Fig. I-1, we see that neither state 1 nor state 2 have any real-gas effects since PR1
is so low and TR2 is so high. Hence, there are no real-gas effects and the pressure is the same as
in part (i) at
P2 = 1600 kPa
7.51 Let’s assume this requires a real-gas analysis. We find
P1 1.5 T1 300
PR1 = = = 0.44, TR1 = = = 2.4
Pcr 3.39 Tcr 126
P2 15 T2 480
PR 2 = = = 4.4, TR 2 = = = 3.8
Pcr 3.39 Tcr 126
143
h1* − h1 0.02 × 126
≅ 0.02, ∴ h1* − h1 = = 0.09 kJ/kg
Tcr 28
h2* − h2 1.5 × 126
≅ 1.5, ∴ h2* − h2 = = 6.8 kJ/kg
Tcr 28
0
28
0.2
s2* − s2 ≅ 0.2 kJ/kmol ⋅ K, ∴ s*2 − s2 = = 0.007 kJ/kg ⋅ K
28
Obtain the ideal gas differences using Table B-6 at 400 K: Cp = 1.044 kJ/kg·K. Then
h2 − h1 = (h2 − h2* ) + (h2* − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* ) = −6.8 + 1.044(480 − 300) + 0.09 = 181 kJ/kg
s2 − s1 = (s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* )
⎛ 480 15 ⎞
= −0.007 + ⎜ 1.044ln − 0.297 ln ⎟ + 0 = −0.200 kJ/kg ⋅ K
⎝ 300 1.5 ⎠
The energy equation allows the power to be found:
Q − W
=m
S (h2 − h1 ). = −W
∴WC
= 2 × 181 − (−20) = 382 kW
S
7.52 Let’s assume this requires a real-gas analysis. We find
P1 0.17 T1 310
PR1 = = = 0.04, TR1 = = = 2.3
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 133
P2 8.5 T2 310
PR 2 = = = 2.2, TR 2 = = = 2.3
Pcr 3.77 Tcr 239
h1* − h1 0 × 239
≅ 0, ∴ h1* − h1 = = 0 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
h2* − h2 4 × 133
≅ 4, ∴ h*2 − h2 = = 18.3 kJ/kg
Tcr 29
0
28
2
s2* − s2 ≅ 2 kJ/kmol ⋅ K, ∴ s*2 − s2 = = 0.071 kJ/kg ⋅ K
28
Obtain the ideal gas differences using Table B-6 at 300 K: Cp = 1.008 kJ/kg·K. Then
h2 − h1 = ( h2 − h2* ) + (h2* − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* ) = −18.3 + 1.008(310 − 300) + 0 = −8.22 kJ/kg
s2 − s1 = ( s2 − s*2 ) + (s*2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* )
⎛ 310 8500 ⎞
= −0.071 + ⎜1.008ln − 0.287 ln ⎟ + 0 = −1.216 kJ/kg ⋅ K
⎝ 300 140 ⎠
The work is provided by the 1st law:
q − wS = Δh. − 186 + wC = −8.22. ∴ wC = 177.8 kJ/kg
144
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
CHAPTER I
MRS. PATIENCE WRIGHT SPEAKS THE
PROLOGUE
I
What a pity that Thackeray, surveying our pre-Revolutionary
American world in the interest of his Esmond and his Virginians, had
not chanced to espy the valiant figure of our first American sculptor,
Mrs. Patience Lovell Wright of New Jersey,—Quaker, wax-image-
maker, traveler, keen Republican observer of the moods of British
royalty and the movements of British troops! Had his mind’s eye but
once seen her in her eagerly-frequented rooms on Pall Mall, with the
notables of the town literally under her thumb, in wax, and over her
shoulder, in the flesh, we might have had from his pen a portrait
worthy to live beside that of Beatrix, or of Madam Esmond, or of the
Fotheringay herself. Similarly, if Lytton Strachey, building his Books
and Characters, had followed out a line or two of Horace Walpole’s
concerning the “artistess,” he might have given us a Mrs. Wright fully
as engaging as his Madame du Deffand, perhaps almost as
“inexplicable, grand, preposterous” as his Lady Hester. Such joys
were not to be ours. Some of the traits that Thackeray and Strachey
might have dwelt on for our delight have been well sketched by.
Abigail Adams, incorruptible eye-witness and letter-writer.
Mrs. Adams, though taken aback by the “hearty buss” with which
the sculptress greeted ladies and gentlemen alike, observed that
“there was an old clergyman sitting reading a paper in the middle of
the room, and though I went prepared to see strong representations
of real life, I was effectually deceived in this figure for ten minutes,
and was finally told that it was only wax.” And Elkanah Watson,
meeting Mrs. Wright in Paris, where she was living in her dual
capacity as artist and patriot, notes that “the wild flights of her
powerful mind stamped originality on all her acts and language.” He
tells us that the British king and queen often visited her in her
London rooms, where they would induce her to work on her heads
regardless of their presence, and where, at times, as if forgetting
mundane deferences in the swirl of her inspiration, she would
address them offhand as George and Charlotte.
The intrepid if somewhat incongruous figure of this Quaker artist
abroad will serve very well as herald or prologue to the drama of
American sculpture. Nor can I think that either Mr. Greenough or Mr.
Powers, Mr. Ward or Mr. Saint-Gaudens, Mr. French or the very
youngest sculptor newly laureled by our American Academy in Rome
would object to that assignment of rôle. Surely in any play, it is
allowed that the herald may seem somewhat more fantastic and
legendary than the kings and counselors that come after. Mrs. Wright
and her wax-works are important to us, but not because anyone now
accounts her the “Promethean modeller” her enthusiastic
contemporaries charged her with being. She is important because
her vogue reveals the artless taste of her time, its awe in the
presence of perfect imitations of nature. Not that such awe is
unknown to-day in the world of art. Indeed, our herald brings
vigorously upon the scene one of the major problems that still
perplex the American sculptor in his work. I mean the problem of
likenesses, those “strong representations of real life,” as Abigail
Adams would say.
II
A strong representation of real life was exactly what Thomas
Jefferson wanted for the State Capitol of Virginia when he induced
the great French sculptor Houdon to “leave the statues of Kings
unfinished,” and to cross the Atlantic to take casts, measurements,
and artistic cognizance of the person of George Washington, in order
to create that marble portrait statue still holding its own in the good
top light of the Rotunda at Richmond. To cross the Atlantic, what an
adventure for a home-keeping Frenchman in the eighteenth century!
Yet in the year 1785, there must have been uneasiness at home as
well as abroad for Monsieur Houdon, so soon to become le citoyen
Houdon. In the midst of our early Republican simplicities, there had
been talk of an equestrian statue also. Justified in the hope of
obtaining the commission equestrian as well as the commission
pedestrian, Houdon accordingly spends a fortnight at Mount Vernon,
taking casts, and “forming the General’s bust in plaister.” Later,
however, the project of the equestrian statue is dropped, to Houdon’s
natural regret.
STATUE OF WASHINGTON
BY JEAN ANTOINE HOUDON
“We shall regulate the article of expense as œconomically as we

can with justice to the wishes of the world,” writes Jefferson to
Governor Harrison, concerning the standing statue. “We are agreed
in one circumstance, that the size shall be precisely that of life.”
Jefferson gives patriotic reasons for that decision as to size; he adds
with excellent artistic judgment, “We are sensible that the eye alone
considered will not be quite as well satisfied.” A generation later,
writing from Monticello in regard to the statue of Washington that the
legislature of North Carolina desires to order, he declares that this
work should be somewhat larger than life. A strict realism no longer
delights him. With true Jeffersonian divination of popular currents, he
leans now toward the pseudo-classic ideal already dominant in
European studios. As to the costume chosen, he finds that “every
person of taste in Europe would be for the Roman.... Our boots and
regimentals have a very puny effect.” In short, “Old Canova of
Rome” is the artist North Carolina should employ. It is pleasant to
note that just as Houdon, having “solemnly and feelingly protested
against the inadequacy of the price, evidently undertook the work
from motives of reputation alone,” so too Canova is “animated with
ardent zeal to prove himself worthy of so great a subject.” Thus
happily are begun those steadfastly continued artistic relations
between the United States and the two European countries in which
art prospers as the light and livelihood of the people.
Washington himself, when the Houdon portrait statue is
projected, plays an admirably discreet part in the art criticism of the
moment. He writes to Jefferson, on August 1, 1786:
“In answer to your obliging enquiries respecting the dress,
attitude, etc., which I would wish to have given to the statue in
question, I have only to observe that, not having sufficient knowledge
in the art of sculpture to oppose my judgment to the taste of
Connoisseurs, I do not desire to dictate in the matter.”
How unlike the home life of William Hohenzollern! And how often
the thoughtful sculptor of to-day has wished that Washington’s
simple dignity in admitting an insufficiency of “knowledge in the art of
sculpture” might be pondered and taken to heart by those of us who
are not qualified “to dictate in the matter”! In this our free country of
the self-elected critic, the temple of art is at all hours invaded by
those who cheerily announce that “they do not know much,” but who
nevertheless follow the example of William II rather than of our first
President.
All the Jefferson correspondence respecting these two statues of
Washington is of vital interest to the student of our art history. Our
young Republic, in its early strivings toward art, was fortunate in
having an adviser as well-advised as the master of Monticello. It was
Thomas Jefferson who guided inquiring state legislatures, now
toward Houdon, the powerful French realist, and again toward
Canova, the distinguished Italian idealist. Through Jefferson’s hands,
our American sculpture first received those rich streams of influence,
realism and idealism, both so necessary in any living national art.
For realism and idealism, however often misnamed or over-praised
or discredited, each after the other, will continue to shape the artist’s
interpretation of his vision of life. Today, when in our literature books
as fundamentally unlike as Maria Chapdelaine and Babbitt run their
race side by side as popular favorites, we cannot doubt the hold of
either classicism or naturalism on our lives and times. Gilbert Murray,
in his notes on the Hippolytus, writes that its matchless closing
scene “proves the ultimate falseness of the distinction between
classical and romantic. The highest poetry has the beauty of both.”
III
Returning to the Quaker lady who speaks our prologue, and
conning once more the tale of her works in all their brisk naïveté, the
sympathetic student will easily evoke the difficult conditions under
which sculpture first reared its head in our country. Sculpture, though
an art manifestly answering one of the earliest religious needs of
primitive man, (and indeed the very first of all the arts to fall under
the ban of the censor) is an art much hindered and abridged during
large pioneer movements. Thus the Mayflower, that greatly
accommodating vessel, may have brought over Elder Brewster’s
chest or some fair Priscilla’s spinning-wheel, but we may be sure
that never a statue came out of her hold. Neither architecture nor
painting suffered quite as much as sculpture in that historic sea-
change of the early seventeenth century. As the turtle carries his
house on his back, so the architect, in a sense, may carry his home
in his pocket. The drawings and inherited traditions of cabinet-
makers, carpenters, and architects supplied our colonists with
excellent models for furniture, for mansions, for churches, for state-
houses. Such models were not slavishly followed. They were
adapted, often with great originality and skill, sometimes with
creative genius.
The colonists’ sense of form gratified itself in these directions,
since the time was not ripe for sculpture. Diligent in fostering both
foreign importations and local industry, the more prosperous of our
forefathers had good houses, good furniture, good silver, good
clothes, and even good paintings long before they had any good
sculpture. Statues, unlike chocolate-pots and meeting-houses,
cannot, even when all materials are given, be magically called into
existence from a sheaf of plans and specifications placed in the
hands of competent artisans. A considerable body of sculpture in
permanent form implies a background of orderly civilization, well
developed on its industrial side. The marble quarry and the bronze
foundry do not spring up over-night in mushroom growth. They are
the foster-children of slow time. We are called an inventive,
craftsmanlike people, but it was not until the year 1847 that the first
casting of a bronze statue was accomplished in our country. The
statue was of the Boston astronomer, Dr. Bowditch, and by the
English sculptor, Ball Hughes. The original bronze cast was not a
wholly successful piece of work; it was long ago replaced by a
bronze from a French foundry. But those familiar with the difficulties
of the situation will recall Dr. Johnson’s observation about the dog
walking on his hind legs. “It is not done well, but you are surprised to
find it done at all.”
IV
However, we need not harp too long and too mournfully on the
physical impediments in our sculptural start. Enormous as these
were, they were less mighty than the spiritual obstacles set up by
time and place. First of all, it is to be remembered that the European
world of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was moving on in
a mild, manifest, not necessarily permanent decline in creative
power as shown through the graphic arts. The waves of that decline
reached even our own stern coast. It is safe to say that had the
American colonists’ hour coincided with an hour of large renascence
in art throughout Europe, our forefathers, whether Cavalier or
Roundhead, would earlier have found room for art as a need and a
natural expression of the freer life they sought. As for the distinctively
Puritan view, that view too often (though perhaps not as often as we
now think) denied and persecuted beauty in the fierce Puritan
concentration upon holiness. It is true that art, in its blither and more
genial guise, slips away from the society of the sour-visaged. But it is
also true that a great tragic expression in art sometimes bursts
uncontrollably from peoples or persons with minds exacerbated by
long fortitudes. We learn this from the Belgian sculptor Meunier
brooding over his brothers of the Black Country, from the Serbian
sculptor Mestrovic immortalizing in stone his country’s stern legends,
from the poet Dante treading his Inferno. But the Florentine and the
Serbian and the Belgian produced their art under their native skies.
They were not torn up by the roots to live in a strange land.
Yes, the main impediment in early American art was spiritual
rather than material. When we see to-day in some lonely, half-
forgotten New England village a spacious, nobly-designed,
admirably-built meeting-house, capping the very crest of a high rock-
ribbed hill of exceeding difficulty, (the church at Acworth will serve as
an example) we uncover our heads before the efforts of our fathers
to erect a house of prayer. The spirit moved them. Nothing less
would have sufficed in what they did and suffered. The obstacles in
their path were many and great, but being material, were
surmounted. In our early strivings toward sculpture, the obstacles
were both spiritual and material, and generally speaking, the
obstacles won the day. We had no noteworthy early native sculpture,
largely because we lacked the passion to create it. That passion was
not dead, but it lay dormant during the long wintry season that
preceded the spring of our national consciousness.
In the mean time, men and women died, and had their humble
carved slate headstones; ships put out to sea, glorying in their robust
wooden figure-heads of American make. Benjamin West’s legendary
adventure with his cat’s-fur brushes and his Amerind colors and his
baby sister’s likeness no doubt had its sculptural counterpart in the
creative endeavor of many an unknown fire-side whittler. These
obscure dramas of artistic effort counted; though meagre and lowly,
they were not in vain; they made for craftsmanship, art’s helper.
Referring to more important matters, we do not forget William Rush’s
full-length statue of Washington, hewn from wood, or his soldierly
self-portrait, carved from a pine log; or the early efforts, in portraiture,
of Dixey, in New Jersey, of Augur in Connecticut; of John Frazee,
that young stone-cutter to whom we owe the first marble portrait bust
chiseled in the United States, as late as the year 1824. We
remember also the Browere life-masks, created by a secret process,
and useful still as historic data.
Interesting and emphatic as are the personalities of all these
early workers, that of William Rush is by far the most significant. In
literal truth, Patience Wright was merely our first sculptress, whose
work must bear the implications of frailty lent by that name. But
William Rush was our first sculptor. In his youth he was a soldier of
the Revolution, and in later life he was long a member of the Council
of Philadelphia; his career as artist and as citizen won respect for the
early art life of our country. Born in Philadelphia in 1756, he was
twenty-nine when Houdon sojourned in that town. Having been
apprenticed when very young, Rush was already well-known as a
carver of ships’ figure-heads, work in which he continued to be
successful throughout his long and busy life. His theory and practice
in wood-carving conformed to Michelangelo’s Gothic creed,
somewhat outworn among sculptors, but of late restored to respect.
William Rush earnestly believed that the carver should see his vision
in the block, and realize its image by hewing away the superfluous
shell. He was modern enough at times to stand by while directing a
workman to chop here and cut there and slice somewhere else, so
that he himself could save his own energy for keeping his vision
clear. Of his Spirit of the Schuylkill, originally in wood but since
translated into bronze and still standing over its basin in Fairmount
Park, the chronicles of its day declared that “no greater piece of art
was to be found in all the world.” The present age will hardly
consider this draped figure the equal, say, of the Maidens of the
Erechtheum. Yet the work, with its companion pieces, the Schuylkill
in Chains and the Schuylkill Released, has its own vigorous archaic
classicism which modern students may well ponder. Rush was one
of the planners and founders of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine
Arts. After this was finally established in 1805, our first American art
organization, he was one of its directors until his death. As a many-
sided man of action and of counsel, of intelligence and of culture, he
sums up the best to be found in the varied characters of our pioneer
artists, personages worthy of our deepest respect.
We shall be too quick despairers if we brood over the fact that
most of their works show Yankee ingenuity rather than Promethean
fire. The inventive spirit is part of our pioneer heritage; it reappears
rather often in our art history. Robert Fulton, as Mr. Isham reminds
us in his story of American painting, was a promising pupil in
Benjamin West’s London studio. “From there he went to Paris, where
he remained seven years, painting easel pictures, and also the first
panorama seen there, whose memory is still preserved in the name
of the Passage des Panoramas.” Morse is yet another classic
example of American genius serving both art and science. One of
the later pupils of West, he had not only painted vigorous and
important pictures but had also played a striking part in the founding
of our National Academy of Design before he finally “wreaked his
genius” on his invention of the telegraph. Hiram Powers, sculptor of
the Greek Slave, in youth acquired merit from the clock-work devices
by which he enhanced the moving charms of the wax figures he
modeled for a museum in Cincinnati. Today, in our journalistic
canvassings of popular opinion as to contemporary American
greatness, we find that in the public mind, Edison’s name leads all
the rest. The prickly palm of greatness is awarded not to a teacher,
to a publicist, to a writer, to a political leader, or to an artist in any
guise whatever, but to an inventor. Inventive genius thus claims our
highest admiration; inventive genius may indeed be our highest
national characteristic. If so, it is worth while (and not in the least
“devastating”) to consider whether the same inventiveness that
animates the early art-forms of William Rush’s followers does not
also contribute something to the very sophisticated creations of our
gifted and fortunately well-trained young sculptors with the dernier cri
from Crete in their minds and at their finger-tips.
The story of American sculpture cannot be told under a parable
of a chain with equally strong links throughout. One thinks rather of a
slender thread, which may be fastened to a cord, which will draw up
a strong rope, which will in turn attach itself to a powerful cable. If
early Yankee ingenuity is that slender thread, let us thank God for it,
and hope for better things.
V
With the dawn of our national consciousness just after the dark
hours of the Revolution, a natural human love for the likeness,
strengthened by a generous surrender to hero-worship, is already
arousing in us a longing for an art that will express our patriotic
emotions. If achievement alone be considered, there is surely a
great gulf fixed between Patience Wright and Jean Antoine Houdon.
But the same sincere passion fires Quakeress and citoyen; their
common aim is a strong representation of real life, transfigured by
the flame of the spirit burning in the lamp of clay. It is recorded that
an overpowering sense of Washington’s greatness sometimes
actually impeded those artists who aspired to reveal him, body and
soul, to posterity. Posterity then is fortunate because our fathers
received from Houdon’s genius not only the Washington statue, but
also seven noble portrait busts, those of Franklin, Paul Jones,
Washington, Lafayette, Jefferson, Fulton, and Joel Barlow, to
mention them in the order of their creation, from 1778 to 1803.
These virile interpretations of character were not lost in the ins and
outs of our Atlantic coast-line. Even to this day, some one or other of
them often reappears in public view, to excite interest, admiration,
and controversy. But in the early nineteenth century, as is shown by
Jefferson’s counsel to the North Carolina legislature, Conova, rather
than Houdon, has become the name to conjure with. Even in
portraiture, realism has given way to pseudo-classicism, long before
Greenough arrives on the stage with his Washington as the
Olympian Zeus, a colossal half-draped marble figure designed for a
shrine within the Capitol.
BUST OF WASHINGTON, AT MOUNT VERNON
BY JEAN ANTOINE HOUDON
CHAPTER II
OUR BLITHE BEGINNING DAYS
I
Alive and kicking; better than we now realize, the old phrase fits our
young American art of the early nineteenth century. In Boston, Mr.
Bulfinch is packing his triangles and T-squares for a journey to
Washington, where he is to remain twelve years as Latrobe’s
successor as architect of the Capitol. In New York, morning-star
young art-students are passionately performing their historic ritual of
fighting the janitor and founding new movements; even Colonel
Trumbull is defied; hence, in 1825, our National Academy of Design.
In Philadelphia, harmony presides over the Pennsylvania Academy
of Fine Arts. But in Washington, what commotion! Restorations are
to be made after the fires of the British; there are new excavations,
new aspirations. There’s sculptor’s work here for many a year.
Bronze doors must be created, in the supposed manner of Ghiberti;
pediments must be populated; and what is a dome without its
colossal figure of Freedom? Greenough and Crawford and Randolph
Rogers are the sculptors of the hour. And always Hiram Powers,
somewhat apart from the Washington bustle.
Modern imagination fails to see those early craftsmen as they
really were. Because they are dead to us now, we fall into the error
of thinking that they always were dead, anyway; the stilly sort of
sculpture they often made sustains us in that illusion. But when we
look into their lives, and hear their sayings, we learn, almost with a
shock, that these men felt deeply, even while they expressed
themselves feebly in their art.
Living amidst heaped riches of opportunity, the art-student of to-
day can scarcely imagine the bleak poverty of artistic resource that
Greenough and Crawford and Powers left behind them when they
sailed away to Rome or to Florence. Nowadays, art-schools flourish
here: casts of good sculpture abound; photographs of masterpieces
may be had at a small price. Museums freely show examples of the
arts of all nations, and intelligently arrange these displays to serve
the immediate needs of students; in short, they do a great work so
well that they have already become a target for so-called criticism
from self-styled intellectuals exposing their wits in the columns of
would-be radical journals. Things were very different in Greenough’s
time. There were indeed a few collections of casts, probably with
soiled noses; there were portfolios of steel engravings, that
sometimes bore false witness against beauty.
Knowing the leanness of those early years, we can but wonder
at the large vision of our fathers in considering our capital city; and
we can but thank our lucky Stars and Stripes for the bond of
sympathy between our young Republic and France, a sympathy
partly responsible for the happy choice of General Washington’s aid,
Major Pierre L’Enfant, as our first city planner. The spirit of L’Enfant’s
work has survived the shocks of time and senates; that plan of the
year 1792 (since extended in accordance with the principles of
design it embodied) is still regarded as “at once the finest and most
comprehensive plan ever devised for a capital city.” Those lean
years were not by any means the day of small things; it is to this
hour a blessing for sculpture and for architecture that Washington
and Jefferson and L’Enfant laid large foundations for the seat of
Government. A century ago, the continued building and re-building of
the Capitol expressed a profound national feeling; the souls of our
sculptors, as far as we had sculptors, were thrilled with desire to add
plastic beauty to its gates and gables. At least one of those great
dreams was destined to end as food for journalistic jibes.
Greenough’s colossal marble Washington as the Olympian Zeus, a
grandiose conception pored over for seven years in Italy, proved to
be too large and heavy for the indoor placing intended for it, and it
was doomed to be set up outside the Capitol for the public to
sharpen its wits upon. Unfavorably shown, it is unjustly viewed. One
recalls with pleasure Saint-Gaudens’s gentle judgments of our
pioneer sculptors and their handiwork. “Those men were greater
than we know,” he would say. He refused to join in any of our
modern merriment at the expense of the Olympian Zeus. Esprit de
corps compelled him to recognize in Greenough some large trace of
the artist as well as the craftsman.
II
Consider for a moment the attractive young Irish-American
sculptor Crawford standing rapt before his splendidly blank Senate
pediment, with his theme of the Past and Present of the Republic in
his eye. Those were our blithe beginning days when a sculptor might
confront his pediment with a heart unburdened by the remembrance
of other men’s failures in pediments, and with a mind undisciplined
by any previous knowledge of the needs of pediments. He did not
dread those bitter acuities of space at right and left, those angles
which to modern discrimination often seem so grossly overstuffed
when filled, so tragically vacant when left “to let.” He had never
heard of the “orchestration of shadows,” or of “musical repetitions,”
or of “blonde modeling,” or of “keeping the masses white,” or of “the
creative spiral,” or of “mastery through the golden diagonal.” He had
never been adjured, like the young student Saint-Gaudens, to
“beware the boule de suif”; on the other hand, he had never been
advised, with students coming after Saint-Gaudens, to seek richness
of modeling by means of “fatty ends.” Sculptural color he would
probably have regarded as having something to do with paint. He of
course had his own patter, blown abroad by the writers of a too
prosaic poetry and a too poetic prose. The real writers, too, used to
lend a hand in presenting art to the public. When the genius of
Edward Everett sprang to the rescue of Greenough’s Washington,
and when Hawthorne sent out winged words about little Miss
Hosmer’s Zenobia, sculpture was receiving from scholarship a
needed sort of first aid.
To return to the Capitol pediment, Crawford’s intention and
attitude were quite uncomplicated. He had but to snatch the largest
theme in sight, and to do his best with shaping its figures one by one
inside his triangle of grandeur. The marvel is that he came so near to
success. The thing has a kind of distinction from the man’s
singleness of aim. Since then, scores of our sculptors from coast to
coast have solved the pediment problem with varying success. Many
of them bring a highly personal and interesting solution. Ward,
Bartlett, French, O’Connor, Bitter, Weinman, the Piccirillis,—these
names but begin the list. The world calls us a wasteful nation, a
nation that unbuilds as it builds. In the face of this, it is pleasant to
know that only a few months ago, Mr. Bartlett’s handsome Peace
Protecting Genius has been set up in the House pediment, to match
Crawford’s Past and Present of the Republic at the Senate wing.
Nearly a century has elapsed since the Capitol first busied itself with
pedimental decorations. Our sculpture has had time to learn in these
years.
III
Greenough came first in our line of scholarly sculptors, that class
to which W. W. Story later lent great lustre. A Latin inscription of five
lines, beginning “Simulacrum istud” and ending “Horatius Greenough
faciebat” marks the huge Washington statue. Well, if I rightly
understand this sculptor, I like his “faciebat.” It seems more
conscientious and less cocksure than the “fecit” with which our
sculptors sometimes grace their signatures, and it is certainly not so
gruff as the laconic “sc.” Between its eight letters one reads the
coming and going of those seven diligent Italian years; and we shall
deceive ourselves if we count those years wholly lost for our
American art. If only Greenough could have enjoyed some of the
surplusage of admiration given to his contemporary Powers for his
Greek Slave with her well-smoothed body, her manacled Medicean
hand, and the accurately fringed mantle at her feet! Though
expressly advertised as a nude figure, she is dressed from top to toe
in a most unfleshly hard-soft technique which our time calls
incompetent, but which 1847 styled “the spiritualization of the
marble.” The personality of the artist counted very largely in those
days; while Greenough was scholarly and Crawford attractive, and
while Randolph Rogers with his bronze doors and his Nydia was
what would now be called a good “go-getter,” Hiram Powers was
easily the main spellbinder of the early group.
With the exception of Rodin’s Balzac of fifty years later, no statue
of the nineteenth century has ever been so famous as the Greek
Slave. It is one of the paradoxes of art that this strangely ill-assorted
pair go down the corridors of that great age together, united solely by
the bond of greatest fame. It is worth while to examine the two,
placed side by side in the museum of our minds. Both are so well
known through prints and photographs that many persons who have
never really seen either one face to face, now fancy that they have
studied both at close range. Both are sculptural anecdotes; one is
told with a leisurely abundance of detail, the other with a swift dash
for the climax. The Vermonter’s statue is surely meant to be a
conscientious rendering “from the Nudo,” as our grandparents
phrased it, but the Frenchman, in his passion to translate into
sculpture a force of literature, has gone far beyond what was to him
a daily commonplace, the study of flesh. As for the mere apparel of
the subject, one man has scheduled it to the last stitch, while the
other has piled it up vehemently into a shapeless monolith from
which emerges the triumphant head. Each sculptor doubtless threw
his whole soul into revealing the spirit of the matter in hand. Which of
the two has succeeded? If the parallel becomes deadly here, Mr.
Powers has brought it on himself by his extraordinary fame in three
countries. Everything conspired for the celebrity of the Slave,—her
creation in Italy, her fortunate début in England, her travels to
America, and, best of all, that body of clergymen deputed to pass
upon her moral status. One can but wonder whether every last one
of these took the matter seriously, or whether some one of them
winked at some other during the deliberations. The sculptor made a
modest number of copies of his masterpiece. But other sculptors
reproduced their marble visions by the baker’s dozen, by the score.
In fact, only yesterday a venerable eye-witness of those times
reported that a certain American sculptor disposed of no less than
two hundred marble copies of a life-sized ideal figure. Appalling
iteration! One asks where all the marble came from, and whither it all
went. And that sculptor apparently had no idea that in this business
of the two hundred copies he was showing himself two hundred
times as much salesman as artist. Fashions alter, in ethics as in art.
To-day, such a practitioner would hardly be persona grata in the
National Sculpture Society.
IV
Meanwhile a young modern sculptor at my elbow very civilly
inquires, “But why the devil didn’t those old boys do their home
stuff?” The obvious answer would be, that if the home is where the
heart is, then in a very real sense they did do their home stuff. They
were not at home among the Vermont mountains, or by the Great
Lakes. They felt that their birthright in art called them away from their
first birthplace to their second. Very soon, too, the all-absorbing topic
of slavery will be presented by our sculptors, in a different way and
under a more timely aspect. Long before Thomas Ball places his
Emancipation groups in Washington and in Boston, Ward has
produced his Freedman, and John Rogers the Slave Auction that in
1860 heralds his long series of popular groups. Choosing subjects
both classic and realistic, Miss Hosmer, Miss Ream and other
women sculptors have a considerable vogue. From that earlier
period remain beautiful classic works by Rinehart, founder of the
Rinehart scholarship which much later send abroad Hermon
MacNeil, one of the most distinguished of our modern sculptors, and
now President of our National Sculpture Society. Rinehart’s Clytie,
coming but a few years after the Greek Slave, shows a marked
advance over her more famous sister. And Erastus Palmer’s winning
White Captive, although not new in theme, has a great freshness, a
delicate realism of treatment. To quote from my article on the
exhibition of contemporary sculpture at the Metropolitan Museum,
“No less interesting to the student of sculpture is the kaleidoscopic
juxtaposition of Palmer and Manship, two artists of two different
generations. Only the width of a room parts the White Captive from
the Girl with Gazelles, from which we note that in aim these men are
not so different as we once had dreamed.... As to manner, much
might be said besides these two obvious truths; first, that the newest
manner is often the oldest, or at least the longest forgotten at the
time of its resuscitation, it being a thing which for some obscure
human reason or other ‘men want dug up again’; and next, that the
best manner is that which scarcely shows as a manner at all, but is
taken for granted as accompaniment of something more important,
the matter and the spirit.” It would appear that the young men of to-
day are doing much the same thing as “those old boys” my sculptor
friend speaks of: they are seeking modern inspiration from ancient
models, but they are doing it with more knowledge, more grace,
more humor, more assurance, more style. Style? Perhaps the right
word is stylization.

Instant download pdf Thermodynamics for Engineers SI Edition 1st Edition Kroos Solutions Manual full chapter

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

You might also like

Instant download pdf Thermodynamics for Engineers SI Edition 1st Edition Kroos Solutions Manual full chapter

Uploaded by

Document Information

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Instant download pdf Thermodynamics for Engineers SI Edition 1st Edition Kroos Solutions Manual full chapter

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Thermodynamics for Engineers SI

Edition 1st Edition Kroos Solutions

Thermodynamics for Engineers 1st Edition Kroos

Principles of Engineering Thermodynamics SI Edition 1st

Fundamentals of Chemical Engineering Thermodynamics SI

VHDL For Engineers 1st Edition Short Solutions Manual

Fluid Mechanics for Engineers 1st Edition Chin

Calculus for Scientists and Engineers 1st Edition

MATLAB Programming with Applications for Engineers 1st

Introduction to Renewable Energy for Engineers 1st

7.2 (D) The Helmholtz function is given by Eq. 7.3:

Eq. 7.56 then allows the enthalpy change to be determined:

h2 − h1 = (h2 − h2* ) + (h2* − h1* ) − (h1 − h1* )

7.8 Using Eq. 7.7, an approximation is

∂v ∂v R RT 0.287 0.287 × 373

RT2 RT1 0.287 × 393 0.287 × 373

7.9 Using Eq. 7.7, an approximation is

∂P ∂P R RT 0.287 0.287 × 353

Calculating the pressure change directly (a more accurate value) gives

RT2 RT1 0.287 × 353 0.287 × 343

7.13 Equation (7.13) is written in an approximate form:

7.14 Equation (7.11) is written in an approximate form:

ΔT Δv 414 − 384 0.3541 − 0.2579

0.05988 − 0.05620 1.1505 − 1.1878

0.0599 − 0.0562 1.15 − 1.19

0.0335 − 0.0316 m3 /kg 1.230 − 1.240 kJ/kg-°C

7.18 Use central differences:

7.19 Use central differences:

1406 − 1405 2.453 − 2.451

184.52 − 184.49 0.6381 − 0.6384

7.25 Using Pv = RT so that

7.26 With Pv = RT, we find

P a v−b ∂T P a v 2 − (v − b)2v P 2ab − av

Let a = 0 and b = 0. There results, recognizing that RT/vP = 1,

0.287 × 373 0.163

Assuming constant specific heats, we find

7.31 The entropy change due to temperature and pressure changes is

7.32 Always use central differences when estimating derivatives.

7.33 Always use central differences when estimating derivatives.

a) Using the μJ calculated, we find

b) Using the μJ calculated, we find

c) Using the μJ calculated, we find

7.40 a) Using Table F-1for air, h2 − h1 = 844 − 260.1 = 584 kJ/kg .

Using values from the chart, the enthalpy differences are

Using the enthalpy departure chart of Fig. I-1, we need

Using values from the chart, the enthalpy differences are

h2 − h1 = ( h2 − h2* ) + (h*2 − h1* ) − ( h1 − h1* ) = −32.1 − 140.6 − 0 = −173 kJ/kg

Using values from the chart, the enthalpy differences are

h1* − h1 0.05 × 133

Using the enthalpy departure chart of Fig. I-1, we need

Using values from the chart, the enthalpy differences are

h1* − h1 0.08 × 304

Using the enthalpy departure chart of Fig. I-1, we need

Using values from the chart, the enthalpy differences are

h1* − h1 1.5 × 304

Using the enthalpy departure chart of Fig. I-1, we need

Using values from the chart, the enthalpy differences are

7.42 a) Using Table F-1,

Using the entropy departure chart of Fig. J-1, we need

h2 − h1 = ( h2 − h2* ) + (h2 − h1 ) − ( h1 − h1* ) = −32.1 − 140.6 − 0 = −173 kJ/kg

s2 − s1 = (s2 − s2 ) + (s2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0 + 0.685 + 0 = 0.685 kJ/kg ⋅ K

s2 − s1 = (s2 − s2 ) + (s2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0 + 0.476 + 0 = 0.476 kJ/kg ⋅ K

s2 − s1 = (s2 − s2 ) + (s2 − s1* ) − (s1 − s1* ) = −0 + 0.173 + 0 = 0.173 kJ/kg ⋅ K

h2 − h1 = ( h2 − h2 ) + (h2 − h1* ) − ( h1 − h1* ) = 0 + 531 + 0 = 531 kJ/kg

s2 − s1 = ( s2 − s2 ) + (s2 − s1* ) − ( s1 − s1* ) = −0.107 − 0.433 + 0.018 = 0.522 kJ/kg ⋅ K