Not only do we discover new phenomena, but in those we thought we knew, unforeseen aspects reveal themselves. In the free ether, the laws retain their majestic simplicity; but matter, properly so called, seems more and more complex; all that is said of it is never more than approximate, and at each instant our formulas require new terms. Nevertheless the frames are not broken; the relations that we have recognized between objects we thought simple still subsist between these same objects when we know their complexity, and it is that alone which is of importance. Our equations become, it is true, more and more complicated, in order to embrace more closely the complexity of nature; but nothing is changed in the relations which permit the deducing of these equations one from another. In a word, the form of these equations has persisted. Take, for example, the laws of reflection: Fresnel had established them by a simple and seductive theory which experiment seemed to confirm. Since then more precise researches have proved that this verification was only approximate; they have shown everywhere traces of elliptic polarization. But, thanks to the help that the first approximation gave us, we found forthwith the cause of these anomalies, which is the presence of a transition layer; and Fresnel's theory has subsisted in its essentials. But there is a reflection we can not help making: All these relations would have remained unperceived if one had at first suspected the complexity of the objects they connect. It has long been said: If Tycho had had instruments ten times more precise neither Kepler, nor Newton, nor astronomy would ever have been. It is a misfortune for a science to be born too late, when the means of observation have become too perfect. This is to-day the case with physical chemistry; its founders are embarrassed in their general grasp by third and fourth decimals; happily they are men of a robust faith. The better one knows the properties of matter the more one sees continuity reign. Since the labors of Andrews and of van der Waals, we get an idea of how the passage is made from the liquid to the gaseous state and that this passage is not abrupt. Similarly, there is no gap between the liquid and solid states, and in the proceedings of a recent congress is to be seen, alongside of a work on the rigidity of liquids, a memoir on the flow of solids. By this tendency no doubt simplicity loses; some phenomenon was formerly represented by several straight lines, now these straights must be joined by curves more or less complicated. In compensation unity gains notably. Those cut-off categories quieted the mind, but they did not satisfy it. Finally the methods of physics have invaded a new domain, that of chemistry; physical chemistry is born. It is still very young, but we already see that it will enable us to connect such phenomena as electrolysis, osmosis and the motions of ions. From this rapid exposition, what shall we conclude?