particular laws from which it was obtained, just as Newton's law has survived Kepler's laws, from which it sprang, and which are only approximative if account be taken of perturbations.
Why does this principle occupy thus a sort of privileged place among all the physical laws? There are many little reasons for it.
First of all it is believed that we could not reject it or even doubt its absolute rigor without admitting the possibility of perpetual motion; of course we are on our guard at such a prospect, and we think ourselves less rash in affirming Mayer's principle than in denying it.
That is perhaps not wholly accurate; the impossibility of perpetual motion implies the conservation of energy only for reversible phenomena.
The imposing simplicity of Mayer's principle likewise contributes to strengthen our faith. In a law deduced immediately from experiment, like Mariotte's, this simplicity would rather seem to us a reason for distrust; but here this is no longer the case; we see elements, at first sight disparate, arrange themselves in an unexpected order and form a harmonious whole; and we refuse to believe that an unforeseen harmony may be a simple effect of chance. It seems that our conquest is the dearer to us the more effort it has cost us, or that we are the surer of having wrested her true secret from nature the more jealously she has hidden it from us.
But those are only little reasons; to establish Mayer's law as an absolute principle, a more profound discussion is necessary. But if this be attempted, it is seen that this absolute principle is not even easy to state.
In each particular case it is clearly seen what energy is and at least a provisional definition of it can be given; but