Principles of Heat Transfer 8th Edition Kreith Solutions Manual 1
Principles of Heat Transfer 8th Edition Kreith Solutions Manual 1
Chapter 4
PROBLEM 4.1
Show that in the limit x → 0, the difference equation for one-dimensional steady
conduction with heat generation, Equation (4.2), is equivalent to the differential
equation, Equation (2.24).
GIVEN
• One dimensional steady conduction with heat generation
SHOW
(a) In the limit of small x, the difference equation is equivalent to the differential equation
SOLUTION
From Equation (4.2)
x2
Ti + 1 – 2Ti + Ti – 1 = qG i,
k
By definition
Ti – 1 = T (x – x)
Ti = T (x)
Ti + 1 = T (x + x)
so we can rewrite Equation (4.2) as follows
T x x 2T x T x x qG x
=
x2 k
d 2T
Now, in the limit x → 0, from calculus, the left hand side of the above equation becomes so we
dx 2
have
d 2T
k
= qG x
dx 2
which is equivalent to Equation (2.24).
359
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PROBLEM 4.2
“What is the physical significance of the statement that the temperature of each node is just
the average of its neighbors if there is no heat generation” [with reference to
Equation (4.3)]?
SOLUTION
The significance is that in regions without heat generation, the temperature profile must be linear.
Compare the subject equation with the solution of the differential equation
d 2T
=0
dx 2
which is T(x) = a + bx, which is also linear.
360
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PROBLEM 4.3
Give an example of a practical problem in which the variation of thermal conductivity with
temperature is significant and for which a numerical solution is therefore the only viable
solution method.
SOLUTION
From Figure 1.6, the thermal conductivity of stainless steel (either 304 or 316) is a fairly strong
function of temperature. For example
kss 316 (100°C) = 14.2 (W/m K)
kss 316 (500°C) = 19.6 (W/m K)
which is about a 38% difference.
Suppose a stainless steel sheet is to receive a heat treatment that involves heating the sheet to 500°C
and then plunging it into a water bath. The water near the sheet would probably boil producing a sheet
surface temperature near 100°C while the interior of the sheet would be at 500°C, at least for a short
time. One would expect the large variation in thermal conductivity to be important in this type of
problem.
361
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PROBLEM 4.4
Discuss advantages and disadvantages of using a large control volume.
SOLUTION
The advantages of a large control volume are
(1) the numerical solution can be carried out quickly
(2) manual calculation for all control volumes are feasible for the purpose of verifying the numerical
calculation
(3) energy will be conserved
Disadvantages are
(1) large temperature gradients cannot be accurately represented with large control volumes
(2) it is difficult to accommodate all but rectangular geometries.
362
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PROBLEM 4.5
For one-dimensional conduction, why are the boundary control volumes half the size of
interior control volumes?
GIVEN
• One-dimensional conduction
EXPLAIN
(a) Why the boundary control volume is half the size of internal control volumes
SOLUTION
There is a node on the boundary as well as one a distance x to the interior of the boundary. Since the
interior nodes are centered within a control volume of width x, the control volume associated with
the first non-boundary node comes within x/2 of the boundary. So, there is a volume of only x/2 left
over for the boundary node.
363
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an inhuman kinship with the entity which dwells here. But it was an entity
so strong, so accustomed to mold the minds of its victims and use them
like tools to create other tools, that we ourselves were reshaped without
knowing it.
This strange new sense began very early to take shape in me. Kua reacted
too, and Byrna. Sam? I don’t know. He’s gone. But as for me, I have
changed.
Something stirred mysteriously through his flesh, and without the need to
look down, Kern’s horizon-circling vision told him that light had begun to
glow in him—fire—long, rolling loops of fire that stretched with
incredible flexibility through the solid glass imprisoning him.
The ribbon of fire upon which Bruce’s body rode paused in its motion,
hesitated, almost drew back. Kern felt dimly its surprise and its strange,
inhuman hatred. But only dimly, for his own mind was too stunned with
this final revelation to let any other feeling through.
Too malleable, he thought despairingly—flesh too malleable to hold its
own form under the irresistible altering pull that was the Mountain. And
now through the icy glass which held the humans rigid, two shapes of
coiling flame turned lazily over and over—one shape supporting a human
body and glowing incandescent with malevolence, the other still too
amazed for emotion, but stretching its new limbs of fire with a sort of
reluctant, voluptuous luxury as the endless ribbon rolled in convolutions
of flame in and out of its own length. A strange, inhuman luxury, this, to
stretch upon the firm, permeable glass, moving through it as light might
move, in a dimension of its own.
Hatred like a blast of furnace-heat struck upon Kern’s new awareness
with an impact that jolted him out of this bewildering mental fog. Hate
and fear. He had felt that blast before, invisibly in the voids of thought,
and terror had come with it so that he fled blindly to escape. But this time
fear did not follow after the hate. This time he welcomed conflict.
“Now we’re equals—matched equals,” he told himself, and felt even in
this moment of danger and surprise the utter difference of his own mind
through which thoughts moved slowly and clearly, like his new limbs
through the solidity of the glass. If he had ever owned a body of flesh and
blood, it was his no longer. If his mind had ever dwelt there and shaped
its thoughts to the contours of brain and skull, they were shaped no
longer. This was new, new, terrible and wonderful beyond human
understanding.
Slow exultation began to burn in him as he rolled the great coils of fire
which were his body toward that which until now had dwelt here alone.
Now the Mountain had a double mind—if the fiery ribbon was indeed the
mind of the thing—but moving still through a single gigantic body of
opalescent glass. And within that vast body, the doubled mind moved
upon itself in suicidal combat.
Hatred was a bath of flame that engulfed him as their farthest coiling
loops touched—touched and engaged with sudden violence. But Kern
was not afraid now, not repelled. With a surging lunge he tested the
strength in that shape which was the twin of his own. The ribbons writhed
and strained. Then they paused for a moment and drew back in mutual
consent. And simultaneously, as if hurled by a single mind, lunged
forward again.
This time the fiery limbs entangled until their full endlessly revolving
lengths were wholly engaged with one another and the two identical
shapes of rolling fire strove furiously together in a single knot that boiled
with ceaseless motion.
Hatred burned and bubbled all around Kern’s awareness as he strove coil
against coil with the enemy. But it did not touch him any more. He felt no
fear. And when he began to realize that he could not vanquish this being
by strength alone, not even then did he feel fear. Emotion was gone from
him. Coil by coil he tested the thing he strove with, and coil by coil he
found it braced irresistibly against his greatest strength. He could not
swerve it by a single loop.
But it could not swerve him. Matched in strength as they were in shape,
the two creatures of flame lay for a moment upon the clouded ice, limb
straining against limb in a perilous balance that permitted of no motion.
Then, very delicately, the awareness that had been Kern reached out with
a sense he had not until this moment known he possessed, and touched
the frozen body of Bruce Hallam. For he knew now that he and this
enemy were too perfectly matched for either to prevail, unless one or the
other found a lever by which his adversary could be overthrown.
Was it Bruce? Gently, and then with increasing pressure, he tried that
rigid, unyielding body which had once been human. There was nothing—
nothing. Not even the discs of overlapping color which the still-human
exhibited to his new sight moved through Bruce’s limbs. He was solid,
unmoving, a shape of nothingness, and no sense could touch him. No,
Bruce was not the source through which strength might be drained from
the enemy.
What, then? Kern asked himself with passionless consideration. And the
answer came clearly and unhurried, as if it had waited only this query to
reply.
The winged men waiting outside the mountain—that was the answer.
Almost outstripping the thought, his sight and his strange new senses
leaped to the surface of the Mountain. There the slaves hung on stretched
wings, tilting to the updrafts from below, circling and soaring and waiting
in mindless obedience for the command that would release them from
their mental thrall.
Once he had seen them as winged humans fighting with fanatic violence.
Now they were only shapes of overlapping discs, full of slowly turning
motion, and in each the Eye of the Mountain swimming leisurely over the
surface of the colors.
The Eye, he thought. The Eye!
Like a new, unguessed arm his awareness shot out and plunged into the
nearest spot of darkness which swam over the colored discs. Plunged in—
groped for contact—and tapped a source of flame. Up through the arm the
flame leaped, and into Kern’s body of matching flame. Almost
imperceptibly he felt the straining coils of the enemy give beneath the
pressure of his own.
Another, and another and another of the flying shapes gave up its tiny
source of fire, and Kern’s strength grew with each. The combat which had
hung motionless in mutual violence now writhed suddenly into action
again as the balance was destroyed. But the fury of the enemy seemed to
double too as it felt itself bent backward upon its own fiery coils.
What had been combat before the stasis turned into abrupt turmoil now.
The two ribbons of flame convulsed together, lashing and whipping into
an incandescent fury of struggle. And Kern knew in a timeless moment or
two that even this was not enough. He must find some last source of
power to give him the victory.
The arm with which he had robbed the flying men of their Eyes groped,
plunged deeper, seeking more power within them. And amazingly, found
it.
For an instant Kern could not understand why strength in a full, deep tide
flowed into him as the light began to fail in his enemy. And then he
understood, and a surge of triumph for the first time glowed through his
whole being.
For in giving its strength to its slaves, that it might command them, the
Enemy had opened a channel which ran both ways. And in draining the
slaves, Kern found himself draining the Enemy itself—reaching back and
back through each slave into the source from which that strength came.
From a score, a hundred channels, the Mountain must have felt its own
power drain away. Its power, but not its hate. Kern could feel the sheer,
inhuman malevolence burning about him in great washes of flame as the
strength of the coils against his grew steadily weaker. The fire sank down
within it, dimming and fading as the creature bled its own power away—
bled flame, and slowly, slowly died!
The turning ribbons of light no longer moved against Kern’s awareness.
His limbs engulfed not a luminous involuted band, but a thin, pale hatred
which fell apart as he drew his own body back. It fell apart into a tiny rain
of droplets, each of them dancing with its own seed of hate. Twinkling,
fading, and the hatred fading with them, until they were gone.
Kern felt change all about him, in the substance of the Mountain itself. A
vast, imponderable shifting of the clouded glass, a falling apart of the
atoms which composed it, as its soul of fire had fallen. The opalescent
stuff was a fog—a mist—a thin, dissipating gas which no longer
supported him. The cold of clear air struck terribly upon his fiery limbs as
the Mountain dissolved from about him. He convulsed upon himself in a
knot of flame that seemed to consume itself and to cease—to cease—
Everything was blank around him. Neither dark nor light, but void. He
hung motionless upon nothing. He was no longer a shape of flame. He
was no longer a shape of flesh. He was nothing, nowhere.
This was infinity, where time was not. For milleniums, he thought, he
drifted there upon oblivion. Milleniums, or moments!
From far away a something began to be. He did not recognize it—he
knew only that where nothingness had been, now there was a something.
He heard a call. That was it, a call, a sound of incredible sweetness.
A voice? Yes, it was a voice of sheer melody, saying a name. He did not
know the name.
“Kern—Kern,” it cried. The syllable had no meaning to him, but the
sweetness of the voice that shaped it gradually began to rouse him from
his stupor. Over and over the syllable sounded, and then with a sudden
blaze of awareness he knew it for what it was.
“My name!” he thought with amazement. “My own name!”
The mind came back into him, and he knew. Like Bruce Hallam, he had
hung frozen and empty from the touch of the all-consuming fire which
had been himself. Like Bruce, he had been emptier than death.
“Kern, Kern, come back,” wailed the voice of impossible sweetness. He
knew it now. Byrna’s voice, lovely as a siren’s magical song, summoning
him back to the living.
He heard a voice of impossible sweetness, and slowly, slowly, he felt
warmth return to him.
Slowly, slowly, he felt warmth return to him. Slowly he drew his mind
together again, and then his body came back around him, and with infinite
effort he lifted the eyelids that shut out the world.
He lay on a hillside in the full warm tide of the sunlight which poured
down from an empty sky. There was no Mountain any more. No
vertiginous thunderhead of glass towering up the zenith, casting its pale
shadow across the world. Someone bent over him, holding her wings to
shut the sun’s glare from his eyes. Her wings glistened.
Tentatively he flexed his own. And then strength came back with a
magical rush to him, and he sat up with a strong beat of his pinions that
almost lifted him from the ground. All around him smiling faces watched
in the shadow of their wings.
And he knew that he was free at last, and the winged world was free. And
he was no longer alien.
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