Piazzi Smyth published a work[4] upon the great pyramid of Ghizeh, the general object of which was to show that that building contained, in its magnitude, proportions and contents, a number of almost imperishable natural standards of length, volume, &c. Amongst other things it was determined that the value of π was accurately (the degree of accuracy is not, I think, assigned) indicated by the ratio of the sides to the height. The contention was that this result could not be accidental but must have been designed.

As regards the estimation of the value of the chance hypothesis the calculation is not quite so clear as in the case of dice or cards. We cannot indeed suppose that, for a given length of base, any height can be equally possible. We must limit ourselves to a certain range here; for if too high the building would be insecure, and if too low it would be ridiculous. Again, we must decide to how close an approximation the measurements are made. If they are guaranteed to the hundredth of an inch the coincidence would be of a quite different order from one where the guarantee extended only to an inch. Suppose that this has been decided, and that we have ascertained that out of 10,000 possible heights for a pyramid of given base just that one has been selected which would most nearly yield the ratio of the radius to the circumference of a circle.

The remaining consideration would be the relative frequency of the ‘design’ alternative,—what is called its à priori probability,—that is, the relative frequency with which such builders can be supposed to have aimed at that ratio; with the obvious implied assumption that if they did aim at it they would certainly secure it. Considering our extreme ignorance of the attainments of the builders it is obvious that no attempt at numerical appreciation is here possible. If indeed the ‘design’ was interpreted to mean conscious resolve to produce that ratio, instead of mere resolve to employ some method which happened to produce it, few persons would feel much hesitation. Not only do we feel tolerably certain that the builders did not know the value of π, except in the rude way in which all artificers must know it; but we can see no rational motive, if they did know it, which should induce them to perpetuate it in their building. If, however, to adopt an ingenious suggestion,[5] we suppose that the builder may have proceeded in the following fashion, the matter assumes a different aspect. Suppose that having decided on the height of his pyramid he drew a circle with that as radius: that, laying down a cord along the line of this circle, he drew this cord out into a square, which square marked the base of the building. Hardly any simpler means could be devised in a comparatively rude age; and it is obvious that the circumference of the base, being equal to the length of the cord, would bear exactly the admitted ratio to the height. In other words, the exact attainment of a geometric value does not imply a knowledge of that ratio, but merely of some method which involves and displays it. A teredo can bore, as well as any of us, a hole which displays the geometric properties of a circle, but we do not credit it with corresponding knowledge.

As before said, all numerical appreciation of the likelihood of the design alternative is out of the question. But, if the precision is equal to what Mr Smyth claimed, I suppose that most persons (with the above suggestion before them) will think it somewhat more likely that the coincidence was not a chance one.

§ 16. There still remains a serious, and highly interesting speculative consideration. In the above argument we took it for granted, in calculating the chance alternative, that only one of the 10,000 possible values was favourable; that is, we took it for granted that the ratio π was the only one whose claims, so to say, were before the court. But it is clear that if we had obtained just double this ratio the result would have been of similar significance, for it would have been simply the ratio of the circumference to the diameter. In fact, Mr Smyth's selected ratio,—the height to twice the breadth of the base as compared with the diameter to the circumference,—is obviously only one of a plurality of ratios. Again; if the measured results had shown that the ratio of the height to one side of the base was 1 : √2 (i.e.

that of a side to a diagonal of a square) or 1 : √3 (i.e.

that of a side to a diagonal of a cube) would not such results equally show evidence of design? Proceeding in this way, we might suggest one known mathematical ratio after another until most of the 10,000 supposed possible values had been taken into account. We might then argue thus: since almost every possible height of the pyramid would correspond to some mathematical ratio, a builder, ignorant of them all alike, would be not at all unlikely to stumble upon one or other of them: why then attribute design to him in one case rather than another?

§ 17. The answer to this objection has been already hinted at. Everything turns upon the conventional estimate of one result as compared with another. Revert, for simplicity to the coins. Ten heads is just as likely as alternate heads and tails, or five heads followed by five tails; or, in fact, as any one of the remaining 1023 possible cases. But universal convention has picked out a run of ten as being remarkable. Here, of course, the convention seems a very natural and indeed inevitable one, but in other cases it is wholly arbitrary. For instance, in cards, “queen of spades and knave of diamonds” is exactly as uncommon as any other such pair: moreover, till bezique was introduced it offered presumably no superior interest over any other specified pair. But during the time when that game was very popular this combination was brought into the category of coincidences in which interest was felt; and, given dishonesty amongst the players, its chance of being designed stood at once on a much better footing.[6]

Returning then to the pyramid, we see that in balancing the claims of chance and design we must, in fairness to the latter, reckon to its account several other values as well as that of π, e.g.

√2 and √3, and a few more such simple and familiar ratios, as well as some of their multiples. But though the number of such values which might be reckoned, on the ground that they are actually known to us, is infinite, yet the number that ought to be reckoned, on the ground that they could have been familiar to the builders of a pyramid, are very few. The order of probability for or against the existence of design will not therefore be seriously altered here by such considerations.[7]