four francs if he throws it only at the second throw, eight francs if he throws it only at the third, and so on. His stake at the play ought to be, according to the eighth principle, equal to the number of throws, so that if the game continues to infinity the stake ought to be infinite. However, no reasonable man would wish to risk at this game even a small sum, for example five francs. Whence comes this difference between the result of calculation and the indication of common sense? We soon recognize that it amounts to this: that the moral advantage which a benefit procures for us is not proportional to this benefit and that it depends upon a thousand circumstances, often very difficult to define, but of which the most general and most important is that of fortune.
Indeed it is apparent that one franc has much greater value for him who possesses only a hundred than for a millionaire. We ought then to distinguish in the hoped-for benefit its absolute from its relative value.
But the latter is regulated by the motives which make it desirable, whereas the first is independent of them. The general principle for appreciating this relative value cannot be given, but here is one proposed by Daniel Bernoulli which will serve in many cases.
Tenth Principle.—The relative value of an infinitely small sum is equal to its absolute value divided by the total benefit of the person interested. This supposes that every one has a certain benefit whose value can never be estimated as zero. Indeed even that one who possesses nothing always gives to the product of his labor and to his hopes a value at least equal to that which is absolutely necessary to sustain him.
If we apply analysis to the principle just propounded, we obtain the following rule: Let us designate by unity the part of the fortune of an individual, independent of his expectations. If we determine the different values that this fortune may have by virtue of these expectations and their probabilities, the product of these values raised respectively to the powers indicated by their probabilities will be the physical fortune which would procure for the individual the same moral advantage which he receives from the part of his fortune taken as unity and from his expectations; by subtracting unity from the product, the difference will be the increase of the physical fortune due to expectations: we will call this increase moral hope. It is easy to see that it coincides with mathematical hope when the fortune taken as unity becomes infinite in reference to the variations which it receives from the expectations. But when these variations are an appreciable part of this unity
the two hopes may differ very materially among themselves.
This rule conduces to results conformable to the indications of common sense which can by this means be appreciated with some exactitude. Thus in the preceding question it is found that if the fortune of Paul is two hundred francs, he ought not reasonably to stake more than nine francs. The same rule leads us again to distribute the danger over several parts of a benefit expected rather than to expose the entire benefit to this danger. It results similarly that at the fairest game the loss is always greater than the gain. Let us suppose, for example, that a player having a fortune of one hundred francs risks fifty at the play of heads and tails; his fortune after his stake at the play will be reduced to eighty-seven francs, that is to say, this last sum would procure for the player the same moral advantage as the state of his fortune after the stake. The play is then disadvantageous even in the case where the stake is equal to the product of the sum hoped for, by its probability. We can judge by this of the immorality of games in which the sum hoped for is below this product. They subsist only by false reasonings and by the cupidity which they excite and which, leading the people to sacrifice their necessaries to chimerical hopes whose improbability they are not in condition to appreciate, are the source of an infinity of evils.