The theory does not require, as some writers have erroneously supposed, that we should first ascertain by experiment the equal facility of the events we are considering. So far as we can examine and measure the causes in operation, events are removed out of the sphere of probability. The theory comes into play where ignorance begins, and the knowledge we possess requires to be distributed over many cases. Nor does the theory show that the coin will fall as often on the one side as the other. It is almost impossible that this should happen, because some inequality in the form of the coin, or some uniform manner in throwing it up, is almost sure to occasion a slight preponderance in one direction. But as we do not previously know in which way a preponderance will exist, we have no reason for expecting head more than tail. Our state of knowledge will be changed should we throw up the coin many times and register the results. Every throw gives us some slight information as to the probable tendency of the coin, and in subsequent calculations we must take this into account. In other cases experience might show that we had been entirely mistaken; we might expect that a die would fall as often on each of the six sides as on each other side in the long run; trial might show that the die was a loaded one, and falls most often on a particular face. The theory would not have misled us: it treated correctly the information we had, which is all that any theory can do.
It may be asked, as Mill asks, Why spend so much trouble in calculating from imperfect data, when a little trouble would enable us to render a conclusion certain by actual trial? Why calculate the probability of a measurement being correct, when we can try whether it is correct? But I shall fully point out in later parts of this work that in measurement we never can attain perfect coincidence. Two measurements of the same base line in a survey may show a difference of some inches, and there may be no means of knowing which is the better result. A third measurement would probably agree with neither. To select any one of the measurements, would imply that we knew it to be the most nearly correct one, which we do not. In this state of ignorance, the only guide is the theory of probability, which proves that in the long run the mean of divergent results will come most nearly to the truth. In all other scientific operations whatsoever, perfect knowledge is impossible, and when we have exhausted all our instrumental means in the attainment of truth, there is a margin of error which can only be safely treated by the principles of probability.
The method which we employ in the theory consists in calculating the number of all the cases or events concerning which our knowledge is equal. If we have the slightest reason for suspecting that one event is more likely to occur than another, we should take this knowledge into account. This being done, we must determine the whole number of events which are, so far as we know, equally likely. Thus, if we have no reason for supposing that a penny will fall more often one way than another, there are two cases, head and tail, equally likely. But if from trial or otherwise we know, or think we know, that of 100 throws 55 will give tail, then the probability is measured by the ratio of 55 to 100.
The mathematical formulæ of the theory are exactly the same as those of the theory of combinations. In this latter theory we determine in how many ways events may be joined together, and we now proceed to use this knowledge in calculating the number of ways in which a certain event may come about. It is the comparative numbers of ways in which events can happen which measure their comparative probabilities. If we throw three pennies into the air, what is the probability that two of them will fall tail uppermost? This amounts to asking in how many possible ways can we select two tails out of three, compared with the whole number of ways in which the coins can be placed. Now, the fourth line of the Arithmetical Triangle (p. [184]) gives us the answer. The whole number of ways in which we can select or leave three things is eight, and the possible combinations of two things at a time is three; hence the probability of two tails is the ratio of three to eight. From the numbers in the triangle we may similarly draw all the following probabilities:—
One combination gives 0 tail. Probability 1/8.
Three combinations gives 1 tail. Probability 3/8.
Three combinations give 2 tails. Probability 3/8.
One combination gives 3 tails. Probability 1/8.
We can apply the same considerations to the imaginary causes of the difference of stature, the combinations of which were shown in p. [188]. There are altogether 128 ways in which seven causes can be present or absent. Now, twenty-one of these combinations give an addition of two inches, so that the probability of a person under the circumstances being five feet two inches is 21/128. The probability of five feet three inches is 35/128; of five feet one inch 7/128; of five feet 1/128, and so on. Thus the eighth line of the Arithmetical Triangle gives all the probabilities arising out of the combinations of seven causes.
Rules for the Calculation of Probabilities.
I will now explain as simply as possible the rules for calculating probabilities. The principal rule is as follows:—
Calculate the number of events which may happen independently of each other, and which, as far as is known, are equally probable. Make this number the denominator of a fraction, and take for the numerator the number of such events as imply or constitute the happening of the event, whose probability is required.
Thus, if the letters of the word Roma be thrown down casually in a row, what is the probability that they will form a significant Latin word? The possible arrangements of four letters are 4 × 3 × 2 × 1, or 24 in number (p. [178]), and if all the arrangements be examined, seven of these will be found to have meaning, namely Roma, ramo, oram, mora, maro, armo, and amor. Hence the probability of a significant result is 7/24.