The subject upon which we now enter must not be regarded as an isolated and curious branch of speculation. It is the necessary basis of the judgments we make in the prosecution of science, or the decisions we come to in the conduct of ordinary affairs. As Butler truly said, “Probability is the very guide of life.” Had the science of numbers been studied for no other purpose, it must have been developed for the calculation of probabilities. All our inferences concerning the future are merely probable, and a due appreciation of the degree of probability depends upon a comprehension of the principles of the subject. I am convinced that it is impossible to expound the methods of induction in a sound manner, without resting them upon the theory of probability. Perfect knowledge alone can give certainty, and in nature perfect knowledge would be infinite knowledge, which is clearly beyond our capacities. We have, therefore, to content ourselves with partial knowledge—knowledge mingled with ignorance, producing doubt.
A great difficulty in this subject consists in acquiring a precise notion of the matter treated. What is it that we number, and measure, and calculate in the theory of probabilities? Is it belief, or opinion, or doubt, or knowledge, or chance, or necessity, or want of art? Does probability exist in the things which are probable, or in the mind which regards them as such? The etymology of the name lends us no assistance: for, curiously enough, probable is ultimately the same word as provable, a good instance of one word becoming differentiated to two opposite meanings.
Chance cannot be the subject of the theory, because there is really no such thing as chance, regarded as producing and governing events. The word chance signifies falling, and the notion of falling is continually used as a simile to express uncertainty, because we can seldom predict how a die, a coin, or a leaf will fall, or when a bullet will hit the mark. But everyone sees, after a little reflection, that it is in our knowledge the deficiency lies, not in the certainty of nature’s laws. There is no doubt in lightning as to the point it shall strike; in the greatest storm there is nothing capricious; not a grain of sand lies upon the beach, but infinite knowledge would account for its lying there; and the course of every falling leaf is guided by the principles of mechanics which rule the motions of the heavenly bodies.
Chance then exists not in nature, and cannot coexist with knowledge; it is merely an expression, as Laplace remarked, for our ignorance of the causes in action, and our consequent inability to predict the result, or to bring it about infallibly. In nature the happening of an event has been pre-determined from the first fashioning of the universe. Probability belongs wholly to the mind. This is proved by the fact that different minds may regard the very same event at the same time with widely different degrees of probability. A steam-vessel, for instance, is missing and some persons believe that she has sunk in mid-ocean; others think differently. In the event itself there can be no such uncertainty; the steam-vessel either has sunk or has not sunk, and no subsequent discussion of the probable nature of the event can alter the fact. Yet the probability of the event will really vary from day to day, and from mind to mind, according as the slightest information is gained regarding the vessels met at sea, the weather prevailing there, the signs of wreck picked up, or the previous condition of the vessel. Probability thus belongs to our mental condition, to the light in which we regard events, the occurrence or non-occurrence of which is certain in themselves. Many writers accordingly