Solution Manual for Physics 3rd Edition Giambattisata Richardson

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Chapter 1
INTRODUCTION

Conceptual Questions
1. Knowledge of physics is important for a full understanding of many scientific disciplines, such as chemistry,
biology, and geology. Furthermore, much of our current technology can only be understood with knowledge of
the underlying laws of physics. In the search for more efficient and environmentally safe sources of energy, for
example, physics is essential. Also, many people study physics for the sense of fulfillment that comes with
learning about the world we inhabit.
2. Without precise definitions of words for scientific use, unambiguous communication of findings and ideas would
be impossible.
3. Even when simplified models do not exactly match real conditions, they can still provide insight into the features
of a physical system. Often a problem would become too complicated if one attempted to match the real
conditions exactly, and an approximation can yield a result that is close enough to the exact one to still be useful.
4. (a) 3 (b) 9

5. Scientific notation eliminates the need to write many zeros in very large or small numbers, and to count
them. Also, the number of significant digits is indicated unambiguously when a quantity is written this way.
6. In scientific notation the decimal point is placed after the first (leftmost) numeral. The number of digits written
equals the number of significant figures.
7. Not all of the significant digits are known definitely. The last (rightmost) digit, called the least significant digit,
is an estimate and is less definitely known than the others.
8. It is important to list the correct number of significant figures so that we can indicate how precisely a quantity is
known and so that we do not mislead the reader by writing digits that are not at all known to be correct.
9. The kilogram, meter, and second are three of the base units used in the SI, the international system of units.

10. The international system SI uses a well-defined set of internationally agreed upon standard units and makes
measurements in terms of these units, their combinations, and their powers of ten. The U.S. customary system
contains units that are primarily of historical origin and are not based upon powers of ten. As a result of this
international acceptance and of the ease of manipulation that comes from dealing with powers of ten,
scientists around the world prefer to use SI.
11. Fathoms, kilometers, miles, and inches are units with the dimension length. Grams and kilograms are units with
the dimension mass. Years, months, and seconds are units with the dimension time.
12. The first step toward successfully solving almost any physics problem is to thoroughly read the question and
obtain a precise understanding of the scenario. The second step is to visualize the problem, often making a
quick sketch to outline the details of the situation and the known parameters.

13. Trends in a set of data are often the most interesting aspect of the outcome of an experiment. Such trends are
more apparent when data is plotted graphically rather than listed in numerical tables.
1
Chapter
Physics
1: Introduction Chapter 1: Physics
Introduction

14. The statement gives a number for the speed of sound in air, but fails to indicate the units used for the
measurement. Without units, the reader cannot relate the speed to one given in familiar units such as km/s.

15. After solving a problem, it is a good idea to check that the solution is reasonable and makes intuitive sense. It
may also be useful to explore other possible methods of solution as a check on the validity of the first. A good
student thinks of a framework of ideas and skills that she is constructing for herself. The problem solution may
extend or strengthen this framework.

Multiple-Choice Questions
1. (b) 2. (b) 3. (a) 4. (c) 5. (d) 6. (d) 7. (b) 8. (d) 9. (b) 10. (c)

Problems
1. Strategy The new fence will be 100% + 37% = 137% of the height of the old fence.

Solution Find the height of the new fence. 1.37  1.8 m = 2.5 m
Discussion. Long ago you were told that 37% of 1.8 is 0.37 times 1.8.

60 s 60 min  24 h
2. Strategy There are 1 min  1 h 1d = 86,400 seconds in one day and 24 hours in one day.

Solution Find the ratio of the number of seconds in a day to the number of hours in a day.
86,400 = 24  3600 =
3600 1

24 24
2
3. Strategy Relate the surface area A to the radius r using A = 4r .
Solution Find the ratio of the new radius to the old.
2 2 2
A1 = 4r1 and A2 = 4r2 = 1.160A1 = 1.160(4r1 ).
2 2
4 r2 = 1.160(4 r1 )
2 2
r2 = 1.160r1
r  2
2 = 1.160
 r 
1
r2
= .160 = 1.077
r1
The radius of the balloon increases by 7.7%.
Discussion. The factor of 4π plays no part in determining the answer. The answer just comes from the
proportionality of area to the square of the radius. The circumference also increases by 7.7%.

4. Strategy Relate the surface area A to the radius r using A = 4r 2.

Solution Find the ratio of the new radius to the old.
2 2 2
A = 4r and A = 4r = 2.0A = 2.0(4r ).

1 1 2 2 1 r 1
2 2 2
4 r = 2.0(4 r 2) so r = 2.0

2 1 2 1

2
Chapter
Physics
1: Introduction Chapter 1: Physics
Introduction
r 2 r
 2 = 2.0 and 2 = 2.0 = 1.4
 r1 r1
The radius of the balloon increases by a factor of 1.4.

3
Chapter
Physics
1: Introduction Chapter 1: Physics
Introduction

5. Strategy To find the factor by which the metabolic rate of a 70 kg human exceeds that of a 5.0 kg cat use a ratio.
Solution Find the factor.
3/4
 mh   70  3/4
  =  = 7.2
 mc 
 5.0

Discussion. Get used to using your calculator to follow the order of operations without your having to re-enter
any numbers. On my calculator I type 70  5 = ^ 0.75 = .
6. Strategy To find the factor Samantha’s height increased, divide her new height by her old height. Subtract 1
from this value and multiply by 100 % to find the percentage increase.

Solution Find the factor.

1.65 m
= 1.10
1.50 m
Find the percentage.
1.10  1 = 0.10, so the percent increase is 10 % .
7. Strategy Recall that area has dimensions of length squared.

Solution Find the ratio of the area of the park as represented on the map to the area of the actual park.
map length 1 map area
4 4 2 8
= = 10 , so = (10 ) = 10 .
actual length 10,000 actual area

8. Strategy Let X be the original value of the index. Follow what happens to it.

Solution Find the net percentage change in the index for the two days.
final value = (originalvalue)  (first day change factor)  (second day change factor)
= = X  (1+ 0.0500)  (1 0.0500) = 0.9975X
The net percentage change is (0.9975  1)  100% = 0.25%, or down 0.25% .
9. Strategy Use a proportion.

T2 R3
T R
2 3
, so J = J = 5.193. Thus, T = 5.193/2T = 11.8 yr .

T2 R3 J E
E E
Discussion. People since the ancient Babylonians have watched Jupiter step majestically every year from one
constellation into the next of twelve lying along the ecliptic. (You should too.) In Chapter 5 we will show that
Kepler's third law is a logical consequence of Newton's law of gravitation and Newton's second law of motion.
Science does not necessarily answer "why" questions, but that derivation and this problem give reasons behind the
motion of Jupiter in the sky.
2 2
10. Strategy The area of the circular garden is given by A =  r . Let the original and final areas be A1 = r1 and
2
A2 = r2 , respectively.

Solution Calculate the percentage increase of the area of the garden plot.
2 2 2 2
1.25 1
2 2 2
A r2  r1 r2  r1
2 1.25 r1  r1

A  100% = 2
 100% = 2
 100% = 2
 100% = 1  100% = 56%
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 According to the rival view of this subject, we must not assume, and
cannot establish, that the plan of all animals is the same, or their
composition similar. The existence of a single and universal system of
analogies in the construction of all animals is entirely unproved, and
therefore cannot be made our guide in the study of their properties. On
the other hand, the plan of the animal, the purpose of its organization in
the support of its life, the necessity of the functions to its existence, are
truths which are irresistibly apparent, and which may therefore be safely
taken as the bases of our reasonings. This view has been put forward as
the doctrine of the conditions of existence: it may also be described as
the principle of a purpose in organization; the structure being considered
as having the function for its end. We must say a few words on each of
these views.

It had been pointed out by Cuvier, as we have seen in the last chapter,
that the animal kingdom may be divided into four great branches; in each
of which the plan of the animal is different, namely, vertebrata,
articulata, mollusca, radiata. Now the question naturally occurs, is there
really no resemblance of construction in these different classes? It was
maintained by some, that there is such a resemblance. In 1820, 105 M.
Audouin, a young naturalist of Paris, 484 endeavored to fill up the chasm
which separates insects from other animals; and by examining carefully
the portions which compose the solid frame-work of insects, and
following them through their various transformations in different classes,
he conceived that he found relations of position and function, and often
of number and form, which might be compared with the relations of the
parts of the skeleton in vertebrate animals. He thought that the first
segment of an insect, the head, 106 represents one of the three vertebræ
which, according to Spix and others, compose the vertebrate head: the
second segment of the insects, (the prothorax of Audouin,) is, according
to M. Geoffroy, the second vertebra of the head of the vertebrata, and so
on. Upon this speculation Cuvier 107 does not give any decided opinion;
observing only, that even if false, it leads to active thought and useful
research.
 105
Cuv. Hist. Sc. Nat. iii. 422.

106
Ib. 437.

107
Cuv. Hist. Sc. Nat. iii. 441.

But when an attempt was further made to identify the plan of another
branch of the animal world, the mollusca, with that of the vertebrata, the
radical opposition between such views and those of Cuvier, broke out
into an animated controversy.

Two French anatomists, MM. Laurencet and Meyranx, presented to

the Academy of Sciences, in 1830, a Memoir containing their views on
the organization of molluscous animals; and on the sepia or cuttle-fish in
particular, as one of the most complete examples of such animals. These
creatures, indeed, though thus placed in the same division with shell-fish
of the most defective organization and obscure structure, are far from
being scantily organized. They have a brain, 108 often eyes, and these, in
the animals of this class, (cephalopoda) are more complicated than in
any vertebrates; 109 they have sometimes ears, salivary glands, multiple
stomachs, a considerable liver, a bile, a complete double circulation,
provided with auricles and ventricles; in short, their vital activity is
vigorous, and their senses are distinct.
108
Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire denies this. Principes de Phil. Zoologique discutés
en 1830, p. 68.

109
Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, Principes de Phil. Zoologique discutés en 1830,
p. 55.

But still, though this organization, in the abundance and diversity of its
parts, approaches that of vertebrate animals, it had not been considered
as composed in the same manner, or arranged in the same order, Cuvier
had always maintained that the plan of molluscs is not a continuation of
the plan of vertebrates. 485

MM. Laurencet and Meyranx, on the contrary, conceived that the sepia
might be reduced to the type of a vertebrate creature, by considering the
back-bone of the latter bent double backwards, so as to bring the root of
the tail to the nape of the neck; the parts thus brought into contact being
supposed to coalesce. By this mode of conception, these anatomists held
that the viscera were placed in the same connexion as in the vertebrate
type, and the functions exercised in an analogous manner.

To decide on the reality of the analogy thus asserted, clearly belonged

to the jurisdiction of the most eminent anatomists and physiologists. The
Memoir was committed to Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire and Latreille, two
eminent zoologists, in order to be reported on. Their report was
extremely favorable; and went almost to the length of adopting the views
of the authors.

Cuvier expressed some dissatisfaction with this report on its being

read; 110 and a short time afterwards, 111 represented Geoffroy Saint-
Hilaire as having asserted that the new views of Laurencet and Meyranx
refuted completely the notion of the great interval which exists between
molluscous and vertebrate animals. Geoffroy protested against such an
interpretation of his expressions; but it soon appeared, by the
controversial character which the discussions on this and several other
subjects assumed, that a real opposition of opinions was in action.
110
Princ. de Phil. Zool. discutés en 1830, p. 36.

111
p. 50.

Without attempting to explain the exact views of Geoffroy, (we may,

perhaps, venture to say that they are hardly yet generally understood with
sufficient distinctness to justify the mere historian of science in
attempting such an explanation,) their general tendency may be
sufficiently collected from what has been said; and from the phrases in
which his views are conveyed. 112 The principle of connexions, the
elective affinities of organic elements, the equilibrization of organs;—
such are the designations of the leading doctrines which are unfolded in
the preliminary discourse of his Anatomical Philosophy. Elective
affinities of organic elements are the forces by which the vital structures
and varied forms of living things are produced; and the principles of
connexion and equilibrium of these forces in the various parts of the
organization prescribe limits and conditions to the variety and
developement of such forms.
112
Phil. Zool. 15.

The character and tendency of this philosophy will be, I think, 486
much more clear, if we consider what it excludes and denies. It rejects
altogether all conception of a plan and purpose in the organs of animals,
as a principle which has determined their forms, or can be of use in
directing our reasonings. “I take care,” says Geoffroy, “not to ascribe to
God any intention.” 113 And when Cuvier speaks of the combination of
organs in such order that they may be in consistence with the part which
the animal has to play in nature; his rival rejoins, 114 I “know nothing of
animals which have to play a part in nature.” Such a notion is, he holds,
unphilosophical and dangerous. It is an abuse of final causes which
makes the cause to be engendered by the effect. And to illustrate still
further his own view, he says, “I have read concerning fishes, that
because they live in a medium which resists more than air, their motive
forces are calculated so as to give them the power of progression under
those circumstances. By this mode of reasoning, you would say of a man
who makes use of crutches, that he was originally destined to the
misfortune of having a leg paralysed or amputated.”
113
“Je me garde de prêter à Dieu aucune intention.” Phil. Zool. 10.

114
“Je ne connais point d’animal qui jouer un rôle dans la nature.” p.
65.

How far this doctrine of unity in the plan in animals, is admissible or

probable in physiology when kept within proper limits, that is, when not
put in opposition to the doctrine of a purpose involved in the plan of
animals, I do not pretend even to conjecture. The question is one which
appears to be at present deeply occupying the minds of the most learned
and profound physiologists; and such persons alone, adding to their
knowledge and zeal, judicial sagacity and impartiality, can tell us what is
the general tendency of the best researches on this subject. 115 But when
the anatomist expresses such opinions, and defends them by such
illustrations as those which I have just quoted, 116 we perceive that he
quits the entrenchments of his superior science, in which he might 487
have remained unassailable so long as the question was a professional
one; and the discussion is open to those who possess no peculiar
knowledge of anatomy. We shall, therefore, venture to say a few words
upon it.
115
So far as this doctrine is generally accepted among the best physiologists,
we cannot doubt the propriety of Meckel’s remark, (Comparative Anatomy,
1821, Pref. p. xi.) that it cannot be truly asserted either to be new, or to be
peculiarly due to Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire.

116
It is hardly worth while answering such illustrations, but I may remark,
that the one quoted above, irrelevant and unbecoming as it is, tells altogether
against its author. The fact that the wooden leg is of the same length as the
other, proves, and would satisfy the most incredulous man, that it was
intended for walking.

Sect. 2.—Estimate of the Doctrine of Unity of Plan.

I has been so often repeated, and so generally allowed in modern times,

that Final Causes ought not to be made our guides in natural philosophy,
that a prejudice has been established against the introduction of any
views to which this designation can be applied, into physical
speculations. Yet, in fact, the assumption of an end or purpose in the
structure of organized beings, appears to be an intellectual habit which
no efforts can cast off. It has prevailed from the earliest to the latest ages
of zoological research; appears to be fastened upon us alike by our
ignorance and our knowledge; and has been formally accepted by so
many great anatomists, that we cannot feel any scruple in believing the
rejection of it to be the superstition of a false philosophy, and a result of
the exaggeration of other principles which are supposed capable of
superseding its use. And the doctrine of unity of plan of all animals, and
the other principles associated with this doctrine, so far as they exclude
the conviction of an intelligible scheme and a discoverable end, in the
organization of animals, appear to be utterly erroneous. I will offer a few
reasons for an opinion which may appear presumptuous in a writer who
has only a general knowledge of the subject.

1. In the first place, it appears to me that the argumentation on the case

in question, the Sepia, does by no means turn out to the advantage of the
new hypothesis. The arguments in support of the hypothetical view of
the structure of this mollusc were, that by this view the relative position
of the parts was explained, and confirmations which had appeared
altogether anomalous, were reduced to rule; for example, the beak,
which had been supposed to be in a position the reverse of all other
beaks, was shown, by the assumed posture, to have its upper mandible
longer than the lower, and thus to be regularly placed. “But,” says
Cuvier, 117 “supposing the posture, in order that the side on which the
funnel of the sepia is folded should be the back of the animal, considered
as similar to a vertebrate, the brain with 488 regard to the beak, and the
œsophagus with regard to the liver, should have positions corresponding
to those in vertebrates; but the positions of these organs are exactly
contrary to the hypothesis. How, then, can you say,” he asks, “that the
cephalopods and vertebrates have identity of composition, unity of
composition, without using words in a sense entirely different from their
common meaning?”
117
G. S. H. Phil. Zool. p. 70.

This argument appears to be exactly of the kind on which the value of

the hypothesis must depend. 118 It is, therefore, interesting to see the reply
made to it by the theorist. It is this: “I admit the facts here stated, but I
deny that they lead to the notion of a different sort of animal
composition. Molluscous animals had been placed too high in the
zoological scale; but if they are only the embryos of its lower stages, if
they are only beings in which far fewer organs come into play, it does not
follow that the organs are destitute of the relations which the power of
successive generations may demand. The organ A will be in an unusual
relation with the organ C, if B has not been produced;—if a stoppage of
the developement has fallen upon this latter organ, and has thus
prevented its production. And thus,” he says, “we see how we may have
different arrangements, and divers constructions as they appear to the
eye.”
118
I do not dwell on other arguments which were employed. It was given as
a circumstance suggesting the supposed posture of the type, that in this way
the back was colored, and the belly was white. On this Cuvier observes (Phil.
Zool. pp. 93, 68), “I must say, that I do not know any naturalist so ignorant as
to suppose that the back is determined by its dark color, or even by its
position when the animal is in motion; they all know that the badger has a
black belly and a white back; that an infinity of other animals, especially
among insects, are in the same case; and that many fishes swim on their side,
or with their belly upwards.”

It seems to me that such a concession as this entirely destroys the

theory which it attempts to defend; for what arrangement does the
principle of unity of composition exclude, if it admits unusual, that is,
various arrangements of some organs, accompanied by the total absence
of others? Or how does this differ from Cuvier’s mode of stating the
conclusion, except in the introduction of certain arbitrary hypotheses of
developement and stoppage? “I reduce the facts,” Cuvier says, “to their
true expression, by saying that Cephalopods have several organs which
are common to them and vertebrates, and which discharge the same
offices; but that these organs are in them differently distributed, and
often constructed in a different manner; 489 and they are accompanied by
several other organs which vertebrates have not; while these on the other
hand have several which are wanting in cephalopods.”

We shall see afterwards the general principles which Cuvier himself

considered as the best guides in these reasonings. But I will first add a
few words on the disposition of the school now under consideration, to
reject all assumption of an end.
 2. That the parts of the bodies of animals are made in order to
discharge their respective offices, is a conviction which we cannot
believe to be otherwise than an irremovable principle of the philosophy
of organization, when we see the manner in which it has constantly
forced itself upon the minds of zoologists and anatomists in all ages; not
only as an inference, but as a guide whose indications they could not
help following. I have already noticed expressions of this conviction in
some of the principal persons who occur in the history of physiology, as
Galen and Harvey. I might add many more, but I will content myself
with adducing a contemporary of Geoffroy’s whose testimony is the
more remarkable, because he obviously shares with his countryman in
the common prejudice against the use of final causes. “I consider,” he
says, in speaking of the provisions for the reproduction of animals, 119
“with the great Bacon, the philosophy of final causes as sterile; but I
have elsewhere acknowledged that it was very difficult for the most
cautious man never to have recourse to them in his explanations.” After
the survey which we have had to take of the history of physiology, we
cannot but see that the assumption of final causes in this branch of
science is so far from being sterile, that it has had a large share in every
discovery which is included in the existing mass of real knowledge. The
use of every organ has been discovered by starting from the assumption
that it must have some use. The doctrine of the circulation of the blood
was, as we have seen, clearly and professedly due to the persuasion of a
purpose in the circulatory apparatus. The study of comparative anatomy
is the study of the adaption of animal structures to their purposes. And
we shall soon have to show that this conception of final causes has, in
our own times, been so far from barren, that it has, in the hands of Cuvier
and others, enabled us to become intimately acquainted with vast
departments of zoology to which we have no other mode of access. It has
placed before us in a complete state, 490 animals, of which, for thousands
of years, only a few fragments have existed, and which differ widely
from all existing animals; and it has given birth, or at least has given the
greatest part of its importance and interest, to a science which forms one
of the brightest parts of the modern progress of knowledge. It is,
therefore, very far from being a vague and empty assertion, when we say
that final causes are a real and indestructible element in zoological
philosophy; and that the exclusion of them, as attempted by the school of
which we speak, is a fundamental and most mischievous error.
119
Cabanis, Rapports du Physique et du Morale de l’Homme, i. 299.

3. Thus, though the physiologist may persuade himself that he ought

not to refer to final causes, we find that, practically, he cannot help doing
this; and that the event shows that his practical habit is right and well-
founded. But he may still cling to the speculative difficulties and doubts
in which such subjects may be involved by à priori considerations. He
may say, as Saint-Hilaire does say, 120 “I ascribe no intention to God, for I
mistrust the feeble powers of my reason. I observe facts merely, and go
no further. I only pretend to the character of the historian of what is.” “I
cannot make Nature an intelligent being who does nothing in vain, who
acts by the shortest mode, who does all for the best.”
120
Phil. Zool. p. 10.

I am not going to enter at any length into this subject, which, thus
considered, is metaphysical and theological, rather than physiological. If
any one maintain, as some have maintained, that no manifestation of
means apparently used for ends in nature, can prove the existence of
design in the Author of nature, this is not the place to refute such an
opinion in its general form. But I think it may be worth while to show,
that even those who incline to such an opinion, still cannot resist the
necessity which compels men to assume, in organized beings, the
existence of an end.

Among the philosophers who have referred our conviction of the

being of God to our moral nature, and have denied the possibility of
demonstration on mere physical grounds, Kant is perhaps the most
eminent. Yet he has asserted the reality of such a principle of physiology
as we are now maintaining in the most emphatic manner. Indeed, this
assumption of an end makes his very definition of an organized being.
“An organized product of nature is that in which all the parts are
mutually ends and means.” 121 And this, he says, is a universal and
necessary maxim. He adds, “It is well known that the 491 anatomizers of
plants and animals, in order to investigate their structure, and to obtain
an insight into the grounds why and to what end such parts, why such a
situation and connexion of the parts, and exactly such an internal form,
come before them, assume, as indispensably necessary, this maxim, that
in such a creature nothing is in vain, and proceed upon it in the same way
in which in general natural philosophy we proceed upon the principle
that nothing happens by chance. In fact, they can as little free themselves
from this teleological principle as from the general physical one; for as,
on omitting the latter, no experience would be possible, so on omitting
the former principle, no clue could exist for the observation of a kind of
natural objects which can be considered teleologically under the
conception of natural ends.”
121
Urtheilskraft, p. 296.

Even if the reader should not follow the reasoning of this celebrated
philosopher, he will still have no difficulty in seeing that he asserts, in
the most distinct manner, that which is denied by the author whom we
have before quoted, the propriety and necessity of assuming the
existence of an end as our guide in the study of animal organization.

4. It appears to me, therefore, that whether we judge from the

arguments, the results, the practice of physiologists, their speculative
opinions, or those of the philosophers of a wider field, we are led to the
same conviction, that in the organized world we may and must adopt the
belief that organization exists for its purpose, and that the apprehension
of the purpose may guide us in seeing the meaning of the organization.
And I now proceed to show how this principle has been brought into
additional clearness and use by Cuvier.

In doing this, I may, perhaps, be allowed to make a reflection of a kind

somewhat different from the preceding remarks, though suggested by
them. In another work, 122 I endeavored to show that those who have
been discoverers in science have generally had minds, the disposition of
which was to believe in an intelligent Maker of the universe; and that the
scientific speculations which produced an opposite tendency, were
generally those which, though they might deal familiarly with known
physical truths, and conjecture boldly with regard to the unknown, did
not add to the number of solid generalizations. In order to judge whether
this remark is distinctly applicable in the case now considered, I should
have to estimate Cuvier in comparison with other physiologists of his
time, which I do not presume to do. But I may 492 observe, that he is
allowed by all to have established, on an indestructible basis, many of
the most important generalizations which zoology now contains; and the
principal defect which his critics have pointed out, has been, that he did
not generalize still more widely and boldly. It appears, therefore, that he
cannot but be placed among the great discoverers in the studies which he
pursued; and this being the case, those who look with pleasure on the
tendency of the thoughts of the greatest men to an Intelligence far higher
than their own, most be gratified to find that he was an example of this
tendency; and that the acknowledgement of a creative purpose, as well as
a creative power, not only entered into his belief but made an
indispensable and prominent part of his philosophy.
122
Bridgewater Treatise, B. iii. c. vii. and viii. On Inductive Habits of
Thought, and on Deductive Habits of Thought.

Sect. 3.—Establishment and Application of the Principle of the

Conditions of Existence of Animals.—Cuvier.

W have now to describe more in detail the doctrine which Cuvier

maintained in opposition to such opinions as we have been speaking of;
and which, in his way of applying it, we look upon as a material advance
in physiological knowledge, and therefore give to it a distinct place in
our history. “Zoology has,” he says, 123 in the outset of his Règne Animal,
“a principle of reasoning which is peculiar to it, and which it employs
with advantage on many occasions: this is the principle of the Conditions
of Existence, vulgarly the principle of Final Causes. As nothing can exist
if it do not combine all the conditions which render its existence
possible, the different parts of each being must be co-ordinated in such a
manner as to render the total being possible, not only in itself, but in its
relations to those which surround it; and the analysis of these conditions
often leads to general laws, as clearly demonstrated as those which result
from calculation or from experience.”
123
Règne An. p. 6.

This is the enunciation of his leading principle in general terms. To our

ascribing it to him, some may object on the ground of its being self-
evident in its nature, 124 and having been very anciently applied. But to
this we reply, that the principle must be considered as a real discovery in
the hands of him who first shows how to make it an instrument of other
discoveries. It is true, in other cases as well as in this, that some vague
apprehension, of true general principles, such as à 493 priori
considerations can supply, has long preceded the knowledge of them as
real and verified laws. In such a way it was seen, before Newton, that the
motions of the planets must result from attraction; and so, before Dufay
and Franklin, it was held that electrical actions must result from a fluid.
Cuvier’s merit consisted, not in seeing that an animal cannot exist
without combining all the conditions of its existence; but in perceiving
that this truth may be taken as a guide in our researches concerning
animals;—that the mode of their existence may be collected from one
part of their structure, and then applied to interpret or detect another part.
He went on the supposition not only that animal forms have some plan,
some purpose, but that they have an intelligible plan, a discoverable
purpose. He proceeded in his investigations like the decipherer of a
manuscript, who makes out his alphabet from one part of the context,
and then applies it to read the rest. The proof that his principle was
something very different from an identical proposition, is to be found in
the fact, that it enabled him to understand and arrange the structures of
animals with unprecedented clearness and completeness of order; and to
restore the forms of the extinct animals which are found in the rocks of
the earth, in a manner which has been universally assented to as
irresistibly convincing. These results cannot flow from a trifling or
barren principle; and they show us that if we are disposed to form such a
judgment of Cuvier’s doctrine, it must be because we do not fully
apprehend its import.
124
Swainson. Study of Nat. Hist. p. 85.

To illustrate this, we need only quote the statement which he makes,

and the uses to which he applies it. Thus in the Introduction to his great
work on Fossil Remains he says, “Every organized being forms an entire
system of its own, all the parts of which mutually correspond, and concur
to produce a certain definite purpose by reciprocal reaction, or by
combining to the same end. Hence none of these separate parts can
change their forms without a corresponding change in the other parts of
the same animal; and consequently each of these parts, taken separately,
indicates all the other parts to which it has belonged. Thus, if the viscera
of an animal are so organized as only to be fitted for the digestion of
recent flesh, it is also requisite that the jaws should be so constructed as
to fit them for devouring prey; the claws must be constructed for seizing
it and tearing it to pieces; the teeth for cutting and dividing its flesh; the
entire system of the limbs or organs of motion for pursuing and
overtaking it; and the organs of sense for discovering it at a distance.
Nature must also have endowed the brain of the animal with instincts
sufficient for concealing itself and for laying plans to 494 catch its
necessary victims.” 125 By such considerations he has been able to
reconstruct the whole of many animals of which parts only were given;
—a positive result, which shows both the reality and the value of the
truth on which he wrought.
125
Theory of the Earth, p. 90.

Another great example, equally showing the immense importance of

this principle in Cuvier’s hands, is the reform which, by means of it, he
introduced into the classification of animals. Here again we may quote
the view he himself has given 126 of the character of his own
improvements. In studying the physiology of the natural classes of
vertebrate animals, he found, he says, “in the respective quantity of their
respiration, the reason of the quantity of their motion, and consequently
of the kind of locomotion. This, again, furnishes the reason for the forms
of their skeletons and muscles; and the energy of their senses, and the
force of their digestion, are in a necessary proportion to the same
quantity. Thus a division which had till then been established, like that of
vegetables, only upon observation, was found to rest upon causes
appreciable, and applicable to other cases.” Accordingly, he applied this
view to invertebrates;—examined the modifications which take place in
their organs of circulation, respiration, and sensation; and having
calculated the necessary results of these modifications, he deduced from
it a new division of those animals, in which they are arranged according
to their true relations.
126
Hist. Sc. Nat. i. 293.

Such have been some of the results of the principle of the Conditions
of Existence, as applied by its great assertor.

It is clear, indeed, that such a principle could acquire its practical value
only in the hands of a person intimately acquainted with anatomical
details, with the functions of the organs, and with their variety in
different animals. It is only by means of such nutriment that the embryo
truth could be developed into a vast tree of science. But it is not the less
clear, that Cuvier’s immense knowledge and great powers of thought led
to their results, only by being employed under the guidance of this
master-principle: and, therefore, we may justly consider it as the
distinctive feature of his speculations, and follow it with a gratified eye,
as the thread of gold which runs through, connects, and enriches his
zoological researches:—gives them a deeper interest and a higher value
than can belong to any view of the organical sciences, in which the very
essence of organization is kept out of sight. 495
 The real philosopher, who knows that all the kinds of truth are
intimately connected, and that all the best hopes and encouragements
which are granted to our nature must be consistent with truth, will be
satisfied and confirmed, rather than surprised and disturbed, thus to find
the Natural Sciences leading him to the borders of a higher region. To
him it will appear natural and reasonable, that after journeying so long
among the beautiful and orderly laws by which the universe is governed,
we find ourselves at last approaching to a Source of order and law, and
intellectual beauty:—that, after venturing into the region of life and
feeling and will, we are led to believe the Fountain of life and will not to
be itself unintelligent and dead, but to be a living Mind, a Power which
aims as well as acts. To us this doctrine appears like the natural cadence
of the tones to which we have so long been listening; and without such a
final strain our ears would have been left craving and unsatisfied. We
have been lingering long amid the harmonies of law and symmetry,
constancy and development; and these notes, though their music was
sweet and deep, must too often have sounded to the ear of our moral
nature, as vague and unmeaning melodies, floating in the air around us,
but conveying no definite thought, moulded into no intelligible
announcement. But one passage which we have again and again caught
by snatches, though sometimes interrupted and lost, at last swells in our
ears full, clear, and decided; and the religious “Hymn in honor of the
Creator,” to which Galen so gladly lent his voice, and in which the best
physiologists of succeeding times have ever joined, is filled into a richer
and deeper harmony by the greatest philosophers of these later days, and
will roll on hereafter the “perpetual song” of the temple of science.

~Additional material in the 3rd edition.~

 B O O K XVIII.

T H E PA L Æ T I O L O G I C A L S C I E N C E S .
HISTORY OF GEOLOGY.
Di quibus imperium est animarum, Umbræque silentes,
Et Chaos, et Phlegethon, loca nocte silentia late,
Sit mihi fas audita loqui; sit, numine vestro
Pandere res alta terrâ et caligine mersas.

V . Æn. vi. 264.

Ye Mighty Ones, who sway the Souls that go

Amid the marvels of the world below!
Ye, silent Shades, who sit and hear around!
Chaos! and Streams that burn beneath the ground!
All, all forgive, if by your converse stirred,
My lips shall utter what my ears have heard;
If I shall speak of things of doubtful birth,
Deep sunk in darkness, as deep sunk in earth.
 INTRODUCTION.

Of the Palætiological Sciences.

W E now approach the last Class of Sciences which enter into the
design of the present work; and of these, Geology is the
representative, whose history we shall therefore briefly follow. By the
Class of Sciences to which I have referred it, I mean to point out those
researches in which the object is, to ascend from the present state of
things to a more ancient condition, from which the present is derived by
intelligible causes.

The sciences which treat of causes have sometimes been termed

ætiological, from αἰτία, a cause: but this term would not sufficiently
describe the speculations of which we now speak; since it might include
sciences which treat of Permanent Causality, like Mechanics, as well as
inquiries concerning Progressive Causation. The investigations which I
now wish to group together, deal, not only with the possible, but with the
actual past; and a portion of that science on which we are about to enter,
Geology, has properly been termed Palæontology, since it treats of
beings which formerly existed. 1 Hence, combining these two notions, 2
Palætiology appears to be a term not inappropriate, to describe those
speculations which thus refer to actual past events, and attempt to
explain them by laws of causation.
1
Πάλαι, ὄντα

2
Πάλαι, αἰτία

Such speculations are not confined to the world of inert matter; we

have examples of them in inquiries concerning the monuments of the art
and labor of distant ages; in examinations into the origin and early
progress of states and cities, customs and languages; as well as in
researches concerning the causes and formations of mountains and rocks,
the imbedding of fossils in strata, and their elevation from the bottom of
the ocean. All these speculations are connected by this bond,—that they
endeavor to ascend to a past state of things, by the aid of the evidence of
the present. In asserting, with Cuvier, that 500 “The geologist is an
antiquary of a new order,” we do not mark a fanciful and superficial
resemblance of employment merely, but a real and philosophical
connexion of the principles of investigation. The organic fossils which
occur in the rock, and the medals which we find in the ruins of ancient
cities, are to be studied in a similar spirit and for a similar purpose.
Indeed, it is not always easy to know where the task of the geologist
ends, and that of the antiquary begins. The study of ancient geography
may involve us in the examination of the causes by which the forms of
coasts and plains are changed; the ancient mound or scarped rock may
force upon us the problem, whether its form is the work of nature or of
man; the ruined temple may exhibit the traces of time in its changed
level, and sea-worn columns; and thus the antiquarian of the earth may
be brought into the very middle of the domain belonging to the
antiquarian of art.

Such a union of these different kinds of archæological investigations

has, in fact, repeatedly occurred. The changes which have taken place in
the temple of Jupiter Serapis, near Puzzuoli, are of the sort which have
just been described; and this is only one example of a large class of
objects;—the monuments of art converted into records of natural events.
And on a wider scale, we find Cuvier, in his inquiries into geological
changes, bringing together historical and physical evidence. Dr. Prichard,
in his Researches into the Physical History of Man, has shown that to
execute such a design as his, we must combine the knowledge of the
physiological laws of nature with the traditions of history and the
philosophical comparison of languages. And even if we refuse to admit,
as part of the business of geology, inquiries concerning the origin and
physical history of the present population of the globe; still the geologist
is compelled to take an interest in such inquiries, in order to understand
matters which rigorously belong to his proper domain; for the
ascertained history of the present state of things offers the best means of
throwing light upon the causes of past changes. Mr. Lyell quotes Dr.
Prichard’s book more frequently than any geological work of the same
extent.

Again, we may notice another common circumstance in the studies

which we are grouping together as palætiological, diverse as they are in
their subjects. In all of them we have the same kind of manifestations of
a number of successive changes, each springing out of a preceding state;
and in all, the phenomena at each step become more and more
complicated, by involving the results of all that has preceded, modified
by supervening agencies. The general aspect of all these 501 trains of
change is similar, and offers the same features for description. The relics
and ruins of the earlier states are preserved, mutilated and dead, in the
products of later times. The analogical figures by which we are tempted
to express this relation are philosophically true. It is more than a mere
fanciful description, to say that in languages, customs, forms of Society,
political institutions, we see a number of formations super-imposed upon
one another, each of which is, for the most part, an assemblage of
fragments and results of the preceding condition. Though our
comparison might be bold, it would be just, if we were to assert, that the
English language is a conglomerate of Latin words, bound together in a
Saxon cement; the fragments of the Latin being partly portions
introduced directly from the parent quarry, with all their sharp edges, and
partly pebbles of the same material, obscured and shaped by long rolling
in a Norman or some other channel. Thus the study of palætiology in the
materials of the earth, is only a type of similar studies with respect to all
the elements, which, in the history of the earth’s inhabitants, have been
constantly undergoing a series of connected changes.

But, wide as is the view which such considerations give us of the class
of sciences to which geology belongs, they extend still further. “The
science of the changes which have taken place in the organic kingdoms
of nature,” (such is the description which has been given of Geology, 3 )
may, by following another set of connexions, be extended beyond “the
modifications of the surface of our own planet.” For we cannot doubt
that some resemblance of a closer or looser kind, has obtained between
the changes and causes of change, on other bodies of the universe, and
on our own. The appearances of something of the kind of volcanic action
on the surface of the moon, are not to be mistaken. And the inquiries
concerning the origin of our planet and of our solar system, inquiries to
which Geology irresistibly impels her students, direct us to ask what
information the rest of the universe can supply, bearing upon this subject.
It has been thought by some, that we can trace systems, more or less like
our solar system, in the process of formation; the nebulous matter, which
is at first expansive and attenuated, condensing gradually into suns and
planets. Whether this Nebular Hypothesis be tenable or not, I shall not
here inquire; but the discussion of such a question would be closely
connected with 502 geology, both in its interests and in its methods. If
men are ever able to frame a science of the past changes by which the
universe has been brought into its present condition, this science will be
properly described as Cosmical Palætiology.
3
Lyell, Principles of Geology, p. 1.

These palætiological sciences might properly be called historical, if

that term were sufficiently precise: for they are all of the nature of
history, being concerned with the succession of events: and the part of
history which deals with the past causes of events, is, in fact, a moral
palætiology. But the phrase Natural History has so accustomed us to a
use of the word history in which we have nothing to do with time, that, if
we were to employ the word historical to describe the palætiological
sciences, it would be in constant danger of being misunderstood. The
fact is, as Mohs has said, that Natural History, when systematically
treated, rigorously excludes all that is historical; for it classes objects by
their permanent and universal properties, and has nothing to do with the
narration of particular and casual facts. And this is an inconsistency
which we shall not attempt to rectify.
 All palætiological sciences, since they undertake to refer changes to
their causes, assume a certain classification of the phenomena which
change brings forth, and a knowledge of the operation of the causes of
change. These phenomena, these causes, are very different, in the
branches of knowledge which I have thus classed together. The natural
features of the earth’s surface, the works of art, the institutions of society,
the forms of language, taken together, are undoubtedly a very wide
collection of subjects of speculation; and the kinds of causation which
apply to them are no less varied. Of the causes of change in the inorganic
and organic world,—the peculiar principles of Geology—we shall
hereafter have to speak. As these must be studied by the geologist, so, in
like manner, the tendencies, instincts, faculties, principles, which direct
man to architecture and sculpture, to civil government, to rational and
grammatical speech, and which have determined the circumstances of his
progress in these paths, must be in a great degree known to the
Palætiologist of Art, of Society, and of Language, respectively, in order
that he may speculate soundly upon his peculiar subject. With these
matters we shall not here meddle, confining ourselves, in our
exemplification of the conditions and progress of such sciences, to the
case of Geology.

The journey of survey which we have attempted to perform over the

field of human knowledge, although carefully directed according to the
paths and divisions of the physical sciences, has already 503 conducted us
to the boundaries of physical science, and gives us a glimpse of the
region beyond. In following the history of Life, we found ourselves led
to notice the perceptive and active faculties of man; it appeared that there
was a ready passage from physiology to psychology, from physics to
metaphysics. In the class of sciences now under notice, we are, at a
different point, carried from the world of matter to the world of thought
and feeling,—from things to men. For, as we have already said, the
science of the causes of change includes the productions of Man as well
as of Nature. The history of the earth, and the history of the earth’s
inhabitants, as collected from phenomena, are governed by the same
principles. Thus the portions of knowledge which seek to travel back
towards the origin, whether of inert things or of the works of man,
resemble each other. Both of them treat of events as connected by the
thread of time and causation. In both we endeavor to learn accurately
what the present is, and hence what the past has been. Both are historical
sciences in the same sense.

It must be recollected that I am now speaking of history as ætiological;

—as it investigates causes, and as it does this in a scientific, that is, in a
rigorous and systematic, manner. And I may observe here, though I
cannot now dwell on the subject, that all ætiological sciences will consist
of three portions; the Description of the facts and phenomena;—the
general Theory of the causes of change appropriate to the case;—and the
Application of the theory to the facts. Thus, taking Geology for our
example, we must have, first Descriptive or Phenomenal Geology; next,
the exposition of the general principles by which such phenomena can be
produced, which we may term Geological Dynamics; and, lastly,
doctrines hence derived, as to what have been the causes of the existing
state of things, which we may call Physical Geology.

These three branches of geology may be found frequently or

constantly combined in the works of writers on the subject, and it may
not always be easy to discriminate exactly what belongs to each
subject. 4 But the analogy of this science with others, its present 504
condition and future fortunes, will derive great illustration from such a
distribution of its history; and in this point of view, therefore, we shall
briefly treat of it; dividing the history of Geological Dynamics, for the
sake of convenience, into two Chapters, one referring to inorganic, and
one to organic, phenomena.
4
The Wernerians, in distinguishing their study from Geology, and
designating it as Geognosy, the knowledge of the earth, appear to have
intended to select Descriptive Geology for their peculiar field. In like manner,
the original aim of the Geological Society of London, which was formed
(1807) “with a view to record and multiply observations,” recognized the
possibility of a Descriptive Geology separate from the other portions of the
science.
DESCRIPTIVE GEOLOGY.
 CHAPTER I.

P S D G

Sect. 1.—Ancient Notices of Geological Facts.

T HE recent history of Geology, as to its most important points, is

bound up with what is doing at present from day to day; and that
portion of the history of the science which belongs to the past, has been
amply treated by other writers. 5 I shall, therefore, pass rapidly over the
series of events of which this history consists; and shall only attempt to
mention what may seem to illustrate and confirm my own view of its
state and principles.
5
As MM. Lyell, Fitton, Conybeare, in our own country.

Agreeably to the order already pointed out, I shall notice, in the first
place, Phenomenal Geology, or the description of the facts, as distinct
from the inquiry into their causes. It is manifest that such a merely
descriptive kind of knowledge may exist; and it probably will not be
contested, that such knowledge ought to be collected, before we attempt
to frame theories concerning the causes of the phenomena. But it must be
observed, that we are here speaking of the formation of a science; and
that it is not a collection of miscellaneous, unconnected, unarranged
knowledge that can be considered as constituting science; but a
methodical, coherent, and, as far as possible, complete body of facts,
exhibiting fully the condition of the earth as regards those circumstances
which are the subject matter of geological speculation. Such a
Descriptive Geology is a pre-requisite to Physical Geology, just as
Phenomenal Astronomy necessarily preceded Physical Astronomy, or as
Classificatory Botany is a necessary accompaniment to Botanical
Physiology. We may observe also that Descriptive Geology, such as we
now speak of, is one of the classificatory sciences, like 506 Mineralogy or
Botany: and will be found to exhibit some of the features of that class of
sciences.

Since, then, our History of Descriptive Geology is to include only

systematic and scientific descriptions of the earth or portions of it, we
pass over, at once, all the casual and insulated statements of facts, though
they may be geological facts, which occur in early writers; such, for
instance, as the remark of Herodotus, 6 that there are shells in the
mountains of Egypt; or the general statements which Ovid puts in the
mouth of Pythagoras: 7

Vidi ego quod fuerat solidissima tellus,

Esse fretum; vidi factas ex æquore terras,
Et procul a pelago conchæ jacuere marinæ.

6
ii. 12.

7
Met. xv. 262.

We may remark here already how generally there are mingled with
descriptive notices of such geological facts, speculations concerning
their causes. Herodotus refers to the circumstance just quoted, for the
purpose of showing that Egypt was formerly a gulf of the sea; and the
passage of the Roman poet is part of a series of exemplifications which
he gives of the philosophical tenet, that nothing perishes but everything
changes. It will be only by constant attention that we shall be able to
keep our provinces of geology distinct.

Sect. 2.—Early Descriptions and Collections of Fossils.

I we look, as we have proposed to do, for systematic and exact

knowledge of geological facts, we find nothing which we can properly
adduce till we come to modern times. But when facts such as those
already mentioned, (that sea-shells and other marine objects are found
imbedded in rocks,) and other circumstances in the structure of the Earth,
had attracted considerable attention, the exact examination, collection,
and record of these circumstances began to be attempted. Among such
steps in Descriptive Geology, we may notice descriptions and pictures of
fossils, descriptions of veins and mines, collections of organic and
inorganic fossils, maps of the mineral structure of countries, and finally,
the discoveries concerning the superposition of strata, the constancy of
their organic contents, their correspondence in different countries, and
such great general relations of the materials and features of the earth as
have been discovered up to the present time. 507 Without attempting to
assign to every important advance its author, I shall briefly exemplify
each of the modes of contributing to descriptive geology which I have
just enumerated.

The study of organic fossils was first pursued with connexion and
system in Italy. The hills which on each side skirt the mountain-range of
the Apennines are singularly rich in remains of marine animals. When
these remarkable objects drew the attention of thoughtful men,
controversies soon arose whether they really were the remains of living
creatures, or the productions of some capricious or mysterious power by
which the forms of such creatures were mimicked; and again, if the
shells were really the spoils of the sea, whether they had been carried to
the hills by the deluge of which the Scripture speaks, or whether they
indicated revolutions of the earth of a different kind. The earlier works
which contain the descriptions of the phenomena have, in almost all
instances, by far the greater part of their pages occupied with these
speculations; indeed, the facts could not be studied without leading to
such inferences, and would not have been collected but for the interest
which such reasonings possessed. As one of the first persons who
applied a sound and vigorous intellect to these subjects, we may notice
the celebrated painter Leonardo da Vinci, whom we have already had to
refer to as one of the founders of the modern mechanical sciences. He
strenuously asserts the contents of the rocks to be real shells, and
maintains the reality of the changes of the domain of land and sea which
these spoils of the ocean imply. “You will tell me,” he says, “that nature
and the influence of the stars have formed these shelly forms in the