CHAPTER XVIII.
OF THE CALCULATION OF CHANCES.

[§ 1.] "Probability," says Laplace,[17] "has reference partly to our ignorance, partly to our knowledge. We know that among three or more events, one, and only one, must happen; but there is nothing leading us to believe that any one of them will happen rather than the others. In this state of indecision, it is impossible for us to pronounce with certainty on their occurrence. It is, however, probable that any one of these events, selected at pleasure, will not take place; because we perceive several cases, all equally possible, which exclude its occurrence, and only one which favours it.

"The theory of chances consists in reducing all events of the same kind to a certain number of cases equally possible, that is, such that we are equally undecided as to their existence; and in determining the number of these cases which are favourable to the event of which the probability is sought. The ratio of that number to the number of all the possible cases, is the measure of the probability; which is thus a fraction, having for its numerator the number of cases favourable to the event, and for its denominator the number of all the cases which are possible."

To a calculation of chances, then, according to Laplace, two things are necessary: we must know that of several events some one will certainly happen, and no more than one; and we must not know, nor have any reason to expect, that it will be one of these events rather than another. It has been contended that these are not the only requisites, and that Laplace has overlooked, in the general theoretical statement, a necessary part of the foundation of the doctrine of chances. To be able (it has been said) to pronounce two events equally probable, it is not enough that we should know that one or the other must happen, and should have no grounds for conjecturing which. Experience must have shown that the two events are of equally frequent occurrence. Why, in tossing up a halfpenny, do we reckon it equally probable that we shall throw cross or pile? Because we know that in any great number of throws, cross and pile are thrown about equally often; and that the more throws we make, the more nearly the equality is perfect. We may know this if we please by actual experiment; or by the daily experience which life affords of events of the same general character; or deductively, from the effect of mechanical laws on a symmetrical body acted upon by forces varying indefinitely in quantity and direction. We may know it, in short, either by specific experience, or on the evidence of our general knowledge of nature. But, in one way or the other, we must know it, to justify us in calling the two events equally probable; and if we knew it not, we should proceed as much at haphazard in staking equal sums on the result, as in laying odds.

This view of the subject was taken in the first edition of the present work: but I have since become convinced, that the theory of chances, as conceived by Laplace and by mathematicians generally, has not the fundamental fallacy which I had ascribed to it.

We must remember that the probability of an event is not a quality of the event itself, but a mere name for the degree of ground which we, or some one else, have for expecting it. The probability of an event to one person is a different thing from the probability of the same event to another, or to the same person after he has acquired additional evidence. The probability to me, that an individual of whom I know nothing but his name, will die within the year, is totally altered by my being told, the next minute, that he is in the last stage of a consumption. Yet this makes no difference in the event itself, nor in any of the causes on which it depends. Every event is in itself certain, not probable: if we knew all, we should either know positively that it will happen, or positively that it will not. But its probability to us means the degree of expectation of its occurrence, which we are warranted in entertaining by our present evidence.

Bearing this in mind, I think it must be admitted, that even when we have no knowledge whatever to guide our expectations, except the knowledge that what happens must be some one of a certain number of possibilities, we may still reasonably judge, that one supposition is more probable to us than another supposition; and if we have any interest at stake, we shall best provide for it by acting conformably to that judgment.

[§ 2.] Suppose that we are required to take a ball from a box, of which we only know that it contains balls both black and white, and none of any other colour. We know that the ball we select will be either a black or a white ball; but we have no ground for expecting black rather than white, or white rather than black. In that case, if we are obliged to make a choice, and to stake something on one or the other supposition, it will, as a question of prudence, be perfectly indifferent which; and we shall act precisely as we should have acted if we had known beforehand that the box contained an equal number of black and white balls. But though our conduct would be the same, it would not be founded on any surmise that the balls were in fact thus equally divided; for we might, on the contrary, know, by authentic information, that the box contained ninety-nine balls of one colour, and only one of the other; still, if we are not told which colour has only one, and which has ninety-nine, the drawing of a white and of a black ball will be equally probable to us; we shall have no reason for staking anything on the one event rather than on the other; the option between the two will be a matter of indifference; in other words it will be an even chance.

But let it now be supposed that instead of two there are three colours—white, black, and red; and that we are entirely ignorant of the proportion in which they are mingled. We should then have no reason for expecting one more than another, and if obliged to bet, should venture our stake on red, white, or black, with equal indifference. But should we be indifferent whether we betted for or against some one colour, as, for instance, white? Surely not. From the very fact that black and red are each of them separately equally probable to us with white, the two together must be twice as probable. We should in this case expect not-white rather than white, and so much rather, that we would lay two to one upon it. It is true, there might for aught we knew be more white balls than black and red together; and if so, our bet would, if we knew more, be seen to be a disadvantageous one. But so also, for aught we knew, might there be more red balls than black and white, or more black balls than white and red, and in such case the effect of additional knowledge would be to prove to us that our bet was more advantageous than we had supposed it to be. There is in the existing state of our knowledge a rational probability of two to one against white; a probability fit to be made a basis of conduct. No reasonable person would lay an even wager in favour of white, against black and red; though against black alone, or red alone, he might do so without imprudence.