The actions of the ocean, of the atmosphere, and of meteors, of earthquakes, and the eruptions of volcanoes, agitate continually the surface of the earth and ought to effect in the long run great changes. The temperature of climates, the volume of the atmosphere, and the proportion of the gases which constitute it, may vary in an inappreciable manner. The instruments and the means suitable to determine these variations being new, observation has been unable up to this time to teach us anything in this regard. But it is hardly probable that the causes which absorb and renew the gases constituting the air maintain exactly their respective proportions. A long series of centuries will show the alterations which are experienced by all these elements so essential to the conservation of organized beings. Although historical monuments do not go back to a very great antiquity they offer us nevertheless sufficiently great changes which have come about by the slow and continued action of natural agents. Searching in the bowels of the earth one discovers numerous débris of former nature, entirely different from the present. Moreover, if the entire earth was in the beginning fluid, as everything appears to indicate, one imagines that in passing from that state to the one which it has now, its surface ought to have experienced prodigious changes. The heavens itself in spite of the order of its movements, is not unchangeable. The resistance of light and of other ethereal fluids, and the attraction of the stars ought, after a great number of centuries, to alter considerably the planetary movements. The variations already observed in the stars and in the form of the nebulæ give us a presentiment of those which time will develop in the system of these great bodies. One may represent the successive states of the universe by a curve, of which time would be the abscissa and of which the ordinates are the divers states. Scarcely knowing an element of this curve we are far from being able to go back to its origin; and if in order to satisfy the imagination, always restless from our ignorance of the cause of the phenomena which interest it, one ventures some conjectures it is wise to present them only with extreme reserve.
There exists in the estimation of probabilities a kind of illusions, which depending especially upon the laws of the intellectual organization demands, in order to secure oneself against them, a profound examination of these laws. The desire to penetrate into the future and the ratios of some remarkable events, to the predictions of astrologers, of diviners and soothsayers, to presentiments and dreams, to the numbers and the days reputed lucky or unlucky, have given birth to a multitude of prejudices still very widespread. One does not reflect upon the great number of non-coincidences which have made no impression or which are unknown. However, it is necessary to be acquainted with them in order to appreciate the probability of the causes to which the coincidences are attributed. This knowledge would confirm without doubt that which reason tells us in regard to these prejudices. Thus the philosopher of antiquity to whom is shown in a temple, in order to exalt the power of the god who is adored there, the ex voto of all those who after having invoked it were saved from shipwreck, presents an incident consonant with the calculus of probabilities, observing that he does not see inscribed the names of those who, in spite of this invocation, have perished. Cicero has refuted all these prejudices with much reason and eloquence in his Treatise on Divination, which he ends by a passage which I shall cite; for one loves to find again among the ancients the thunderbolts of reason, which, after having dissipated all the prejudices by its light, shall become the sole foundation of human institutions.
"It is necessary," says the Roman orator, "to reject divination by dreams and all similar prejudices. Widespread superstition has subjugated the majority of minds and has taken possession of the feebleness of men. It is this we have expounded in our books upon the nature of the gods and especially in this work, persuaded that we shall render a service to others and to ourselves if we succeed in destroying superstition. However (and I desire especially in this regard my thought be well comprehended), in destroying superstition I am far from wishing to disturb religion. Wisdom enjoins us to maintain the institutions and the ceremonies of our ancestors, touching the cult of the gods. Moreover, the beauty of the universe and the order of celestial things force us to recognize some superior nature which ought to be remarked and admired by the human race. But as far as it is proper to propagate religion, which is joined to the knowledge of nature, so far it is necessary to work toward the extirpation of superstition, for it torments one, importunes one, and pursues one continually and in all places. If one consult a diviner or a soothsayer, if one immolates a victim, if one regards the flight of a bird, if one encounters a Chaldean or an aruspex, if it lightens, if it thunders, if the thunderbolt strikes, finally, if there is born or is manifested a kind of prodigy, things one of which ought often to happen, then superstition dominates and leaves no repose. Sleep itself, this refuge of mortals in their troubles and their labors, becomes by it a new source of inquietude and fear."
All these prejudices and the terrors which they inspire are connected with physiological causes which continue sometimes to operate strongly after reason has disabused us of them. But the repetition of acts contrary to these prejudices can always destroy them.
CHAPTER XVII.
CONCERNING THE VARIOUS MEANS OF APPROACHING CERTAINTY.
Induction, analogy, hypotheses founded upon facts and rectified continually by new observations, a happy tact given by nature and strengthened by numerous comparisons of its indications with experience, such are the principal means for arriving at truth.
If one considers a series of objects of the same nature one perceives among them and in their changes ratios which manifest themselves more and more in proportion as the series is prolonged, and which, extending and generalizing continually, lead finally to the principle from which they were derived. But these ratios are enveloped by so many strange circumstances that it requires great sagacity to disentangle them and to recur to this principle: it is in this that the true genius of sciences consists. Analysis and natural philosophy owe their most important discoveries to this fruitful means, which is called induction. Newton was indebted to it for his theorem of the binomial and the principle of universal gravity. It is difficult to appreciate the probability of the results of induction, which is based upon this that the simplest ratios are the most common; this is verified in the formulæ of analysis and is found again in natural phenomena, in crystallization, and in chemical combinations. This simplicity of ratios will not appear astonishing if we consider that all the effects of nature are only mathematical results of a small number of immutable laws.
Yet induction, in leading to the discovery of the general principles of the sciences, does not suffice to establish them absolutely. It is always necessary to confirm them by demonstrations or by decisive experiences; for the history of the sciences shows us that induction has sometimes led to inexact results. I shall cite, for example, a theorem of Fermat in regard to prime numbers. This great geometrician, who had meditated, profoundly upon this theorem, sought a formula which, containing only prime numbers, gave directly a prime number greater than any other number assignable. Induction led him to think that two, raised to a power which was itself a power of two, formed with unity a prime number. Thus, two raised to the square plus one, forms the prime number five; two raised to the second power of two, or sixteen, forms with one the prime number seventeen. He found that this was still true for the eighth and the sixteenth power of two augmented by unity; and this induction, based upon several arithmetical considerations, caused him to regard this result as general. However, he avowed that he had not demonstrated it. Indeed, Euler recognized that this does not hold for the thirty-second power of two, which, augmented by unity, gives 4,294,967,297, a number divisible by 641.