confine the products of our chemical combination so completely as to prove, beyond a doubt, that no heavy matter passes out of existence that—when coal, for instance, burns in oxygen gas—what we have is merely a change of condition. But we cannot so easily prove that no energy is destroyed in this combination, and that the only result is a change from the energy of chemical separation into that of absorbed heat, for during the process it is impossible to isolate the energy—do what we may, some of it will escape into the room in which we perform the experiment; some of it will, no doubt, escape through the window, while a little will leave the earth altogether, and go out into space. All that we can do in such a case is to estimate, as completely as possible, how much energy has gone away, since we cannot possibly prevent its going. But this is an operation involving great acquaintance with the laws of energy, and very great exactness of observation: in fine, our readers will at once perceive that it is much more difficult to prove the truth of the conservation of energy than that of the conservation of matter.
118. But if it be difficult to prove our principle in the most rigorous manner, we are yet able to give the strongest possible indirect evidence of its truth.
Our readers are no doubt familiar with a method which Euclid frequently adopts in proving his propositions. Starting with the supposition that they are not true, and reasoning upon this hypothesis, he comes to
