History of analysis

This hard-won result became almost a triviality with the discovery of the fundamental theorem of calculus a few decades later. The fundamental theorem states that the area under the curve y = f(x) is given by a function F(x) whose derivative is f(x), F′(x) = f(x). The fundamental theorem reduced integration to the problem of finding a function with a given derivative; for example, x^{k + 1}/(k + 1) is an integral of x^k because its derivative equals x^k.

The fundamental theorem was first discovered by James Gregory in Scotland in 1668 and by Isaac Barrow (Newton’s predecessor at the University of Cambridge) about 1670, but in a geometric form that concealed its computational advantages. Newton discovered the result for himself about the same time and immediately realized its power. In fact, from his viewpoint the fundamental theorem completely solved the problem of integration. However, he failed to publish his work, and in Germany Leibniz independently discovered the same theorem and published it in 1686. This led to a bitter dispute over priority and over the relative merits of Newtonian and Leibnizian methods. This dispute isolated and impoverished British mathematics until the 19th century.

Click Here to see full-size tableFor Newton, analysis meant finding power series for functions f(x)—i.e., infinite sums of multiples of powers of x. A few examples were known before his time—for example, the geometric series for 1/(1 − x), 1/(1 − x) = 1 + x + x² + x³ + x⁴ +⋯, which is implicit in Greek mathematics, and series for sin (x), cos (x), and tan⁻¹ (x), discovered about 1500 in India although not communicated to Europe. Newton created a calculus of power series by showing how to differentiate, integrate, and invert them. Thanks to the fundamental theorem, differentiation and integration were easy, as they were needed only for powers x^k. Newton’s more difficult achievement was inversion: given y = f(x) as a sum of powers of x, find x as a sum of powers of y. This allowed him, for example, to find the sine series from the inverse sine and the exponential series from the logarithm. See Sidebar: Newton and Infinite Series.

For Leibniz the meaning of calculus was somewhat different. He did not begin with a fixed idea about the form of functions, and so the operations he developed were quite general. In fact, modern derivative and integral symbols are derived from Leibniz’s d for difference and ∫ for sum. He applied these operations to variables and functions in a calculus of infinitesimals. When applied to a variable x, the difference operator d produces dx, an infinitesimal increase in x that is somehow as small as desired without ever quite being zero. Corresponding to this infinitesimal increase, a function f(x) experiences an increase df = f′dx, which Leibniz regarded as the difference between values of the function f at two values of x a distance of dx apart. Thus, the derivative f′ = df/dx was a quotient of infinitesimals. Similarly, Leibniz viewed the integral ∫f(x)dx of f(x) as a sum of infinitesimals—infinitesimal strips of area under the curve y = f(x)—so that the fundamental theorem of calculus was for him the truism that the difference between successive sums is the last term in the sum: d∫f(x)dx = f(x)dx.

In effect, Leibniz reasoned with continuous quantities as if they were discrete. The idea was even more dubious than indivisibles, but, combined with a perfectly apt notation that facilitated calculations, mathematicians initially ignored any logical difficulties in their joy at being able to solve problems that until then were intractable. Both Leibniz and Newton (who also took advantage of mysterious nonzero quantities that vanished when convenient) knew the calculus was a method of unparalleled scope and power, and they both wanted the credit for inventing it. True, the underlying infinitesimals were ridiculous—as the Anglican bishop George Berkeley remarked in his The Analyst; or, A Discourse Addressed to an Infidel Mathematician (1734):

They are neither finite quantities…nor yet nothing. May we not call them ghosts of departed quantities?

However, results found with their help could be confirmed (given sufficient, if not quite infinite, patience) by the method of exhaustion. So calculus forged ahead, and eventually the credit for it was distributed evenly, with Newton getting his share for originality and Leibniz his share for finding an appropriate symbolism.

Calculus flourishes

Newton had become the world’s leading scientist, thanks to the publication of his Principia (1687), which explained Kepler’s laws and much more with his theory of gravitation. Assuming that the gravitational force between bodies is inversely proportional to the distance between them, he found that in a system of two bodies the orbit of one relative to the other must be an ellipse. Unfortunately, Newton’s preference for classical geometric methods obscured the essential calculus. The result was that Newton had admirers but few followers in Britain, notable exceptions being Brook Taylor and Colin Maclaurin. Instead, calculus flourished on the Continent, where the power of Leibniz’s notation was not curbed by Newton’s authority.

For the next few decades, calculus belonged to Leibniz and the Swiss brothers Jakob and Johann Bernoulli. Between them they developed most of the standard material found in calculus courses: the rules for differentiation, the integration of rational functions, the theory of elementary functions, applications to mechanics, and the geometry of curves. To Newton’s chagrin, Johann even presented a Leibniz-style proof that the inverse square law of gravitation implies elliptical orbits. He claimed, with some justice, that Newton had not been clear on this point. The first calculus textbook was also due to Johann—his lecture notes Analyse des infiniment petits (“Infinitesimal Analysis”) was published by the marquis de l’Hôpital in 1696—and calculus in the next century was dominated by his great Swiss student Leonhard Euler, who was invited to Russia by Catherine the Great and thus helped to spread the Leibniz doctrine to all corners of Europe.

Perhaps the only basic calculus result missed by the Leibniz school was one on Newton’s specialty of power series, given by Taylor in 1715. The Taylor series neatly wraps up the power series for 1/(1 − x), sin (x), cos (x), tan⁻¹ (x) and many other functions in a single formula: Here f′(a) is the derivative of f at x = a, f′′(a) is the derivative of the derivative (the “second derivative”) at x = a, and so on (see Higher-order derivatives). Taylor’s formula pointed toward Newton’s original goal—the general study of functions by power series—but the actual meaning of this goal awaited clarification of the function concept.