§ 23. So far our path is plain. Up to this point disciples of very different schools may advance together; for in laying down the above doctrine we have carefully abstained from implying or admitting that it contains the whole truth. But from this point two paths branch out before us, paths as different from each other in their character, origin, and direction, as can well be conceived. As this enquiry is only a digression, we may confine ourselves to stating briefly what seem to be the characteristics of each, without attempting to give the arguments which might be used in their support.

(I.) On the one hand, we may assume that this principle of causation is the ultimate one. By so terming it, we do not mean that it is one from which we consciously start in our investigations, as we do from the axioms of geometry, but rather that it is the final result towards which we find ourselves drawn by a study of nature. Finding that, throughout the scope of our enquiries, event follows event in never-failing uniformity, and finding moreover (some might add) that this experience is supported or even demanded by a tendency or law of our nature (it does not matter here how we describe it), we may come to regard this as the one fundamental principle on which all our enquiries should rest.

(II.) Or, on the other hand, we may admit a class of principles of a very different kind. Allowing that there is this uniformity so far as our experience extends, we may yet admit what can hardly be otherwise described than by calling it a Superintending Providence, that is, a Scheme or Order, in reference to which Design may be predicated without using merely metaphorical language. To adopt an aptly chosen distinction, it is not to be understood as over-ruling events, but rather as underlying them.

§ 24. Now it is quite clear that according as we come to the discussion of any particular miracle or extraordinary story under one or other of these prepossessions, the question of its credibility will assume a very different aspect. It is sometimes overlooked that although a difference about facts is one of the conditions of a bonâ fide argument, a difference which reaches to ultimate principles is fatal to all argument. The possibility of present conflict is banished in such a case as absolutely as that of future concord. A large amount of popular literature on the subject of miracles seems to labour under this defect. Arguments are stated and examined for and against the credibility of miraculous stories without the disputants appearing to have any adequate conception of the chasm which separates one side from the other.

§ 25. The following illustration may serve in some degree to show the sort of inconsistency of which we are speaking. A sailor reports that in some remote coral island of the Pacific, on which he had landed by himself, he had found a number of stones on the beach disposed in the exact form of a cross. Now if we conceive a debate to arise about the truth of his story, in which it is attempted to decide the matter simply by considerations about the validity of testimony, without introducing the question of the existence of inhabitants, and the nature of their customs, we shall have some notion of the unsatisfactory nature of many of the current arguments about miracles. All illustrations of this subject are imperfect, but a case like this, in which a supposed trace of human agency is detected interfering with the orderly sequence of other and non-intelligent natural causes, is as much to the point as any illustration can be. The thing omitted here from the discussion is clearly the one important thing. If we suppose that there is no inhabitant, we shall probably disbelieve the story, or consider it to be grossly exaggerated. If we suppose that there are inhabitants, the question is at once resolved into a different and somewhat more intricate one. The credibility of the witness is not the only element, but we should necessarily have to take into consideration the character of the supposed inhabitants, and the object of such an action on their part.

§ 26. Considerations of this character are doubtless often introduced into the discussion, but it appears to me that they are introduced to a very inadequate extent. It is often urged, after Paley, ‘Once believe in a God, and miracles are not incredible.’ Such an admission surely demands some modification and extension. It should rather be stated thus, Believe in a God whose working may be traced throughout the whole moral and physical world. It amounts, in fact, to this;—Admit that there may be a design which we can trace somehow or other in the course of things; admit that we are not wholly confined to tracing the connection of events, or following out their effects, but that we can form some idea, feeble and imperfect though it be, of a scheme.[10] Paley's advice sounds too much like saying, Admit that there are fairies, and we can account for our cups being cracked. The admission is not to be made in so off-hand a manner. To any one labouring under the difficulty we are speaking of, this belief in a God almost out of any constant relation to nature, whom we then imagine to occasionally manifest himself in a perhaps irregular manner, is altogether impossible. The only form under which belief in the Deity can gain entrance into his mind is as the controlling Spirit of an infinite and orderly system. In fact, it appears to me, paradoxical as the suggestion may appear, that it might even be more easy for a person thoroughly imbued with the spirit of Inductive science, though an atheist, to believe in a miracle which formed a part of a vast system, than for such a person, as a theist, to accept an isolated miracle.

§ 27. It is therefore with great prudence that Hume, and others after him, have practically insisted on commencing with a discussion of the credibility of the single miracle, treating the question as though the Christian Revelation could be adequately regarded as a succession of such events. As well might one consider the living body to be represented by the aggregate of the limbs which compose it. What is to be complained of in so many popular discussions on the subject is the entire absence of any recognition of the different ground on which the attackers and defenders of miracles are so often really standing. Proofs and illustrations are produced in endless number, which involving, as they almost all do in the mind of the disputants on one side at least, that very principle of causation, the absence of which in the case in question they are intended to establish, they fail in the single essential point. To attempt to induce any one to disbelieve in the existence of physical causation, in a given instance, by means of illustrations which to him seem only additional examples of the principle in question, is like trying to make a dam, in order to stop the flow of a river, by shovelling in snow. Such illustrations are plentiful in times of controversy, but being in reality only modified forms of that which they are applied to counteract, they change their shape at their first contact with the disbeliever's mind, and only help to swell the flood which they were intended to check.

---

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE NATURE AND USE OF AN AVERAGE, AND ON THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF AVERAGE.[*]

§ 1. We have had such frequent occasion to refer to averages, and to the kind of uniformity which they are apt to display in contrast with individual objects or events, that it will now be convenient to discuss somewhat more minutely what are the different kinds of available average, and what exactly are the functions they perform.

The first vague notion of an average, as we now understand it, seems to me to involve little more than that of a something intermediate to a number of objects. The objects must of course resemble each other in certain respects, otherwise we should not think of classing them together; and they must also differ in certain respects, otherwise we should not distinguish between them. What the average does for us, under this primitive form, is to enable us conveniently to retain the group together as a whole. That is, it furnishes a sort of representative value of the quantitative aspect of the things in question, which will serve for certain purposes to take the place of any single member of the group.

It would seem then that the first dawn of the conception which science reduces to accuracy under the designation of an average or mean, and then proceeds to subdivide into various distinct species of means, presents itself as performing some of the functions of a general name. For what is the main use of a general name? It is to reduce a plurality of objects to unity; to group a number of things together by reference to some qualities which they possess in common. The ordinary general name rests upon a considerable variety of attributes, mostly of a qualitative character, whereas the average, in so far as it serves the same sort of purpose, rests rather upon a single quantitative attribute. It directs attention to a certain kind and degree of magnitude. When the grazier says of his sheep that ‘one with another they will fetch about 50 shillings,’ or the farmer buys a lot of poles which ‘run to about 10 feet,’ it is true that they are not strictly using the equivalent of either a general or a collective name. But they are coming very near to such use, in picking out a sort of type or specimen of the magnitude to which attention is to be directed, and in classing the whole group by its resemblance to this type. The grazier is thinking of his sheep: not in a merely general sense, as sheep, and therefore under that name or conception, but as sheep of a certain approximate money value. Some will be more, some less, but they are all near enough to the assigned value to be conveniently classed together as if by a name. Many of our rough quantitative designations seem to be of this kind, as when we speak of ‘eight-day clocks’ or ‘twelve-stone men,’ &c.; unless of course we intend (as we sometimes do in these cases) to assign a maximum or minimum value. It is not indeed easy to see how else we could readily convey a merely general notion of the quantitative aspect of things, except by selecting a type as above, or by assigning certain limits within which the things are supposed to lie.

§ 2. So far there is not necessarily any idea introduced of comparison,—of comparison, that is, of one group with another,—by aid of such an average. As soon as we begin to think of this we have to be more precise in saying what we mean by an average. We can easily see that the number of possible kinds of average, in the sense of intermediate values, is very great; is, in fact, indefinitely great. Out of the general conception of an intermediate value, obtained by some treatment of the original magnitudes, we can elicit as many subdivisions as we please, by various modes of treatment. There are however only three or four which for our purposes need be taken into account.

(1) In the first place there is the arithmetical average or mean. The rule for obtaining this is very simple: add all the magnitudes together, and divide the sum by their number. This is the only kind of average with which the unscientific mind is thoroughly familiar. But we must not let this simplicity and familiarity blind us to the fact that there are definite reasons for the employment of this average, and that it is therefore appropriate only in definite circumstances. The reason why it affords a safe and accurate intermediate value for the actual divergent values, is that for many of the ordinary purposes of life, such as purchase and sale, we come to exactly the same result, whether we take account of those existent divergences, or suppose all the objects equated to their average. What the grazier must be understood to mean, if he wishes to be accurate, by saying that the average price of his sheep is 50 shillings, is, that so far as that flock is concerned (and so far as he is concerned), it comes to exactly the same thing, whether they are each sold at different prices, or are all sold at the ‘average’ price. Accordingly, when he compares his sales of one year with those of another; when he says that last year the sheep averaged 48 shillings against the 50 of this year; the employment of this representative or average value is a great simplification, and is perfectly accurate for the purpose in question.

§ 3. (2) Now consider this case. A certain population is found to have doubled itself in 100 years: can we talk of an ‘average’ increase here of 1 per cent. annually? The circumstances are not quite the same as in the former case, but the analogy is sufficiently close for our purpose. The answer is decidedly, No. If 100 articles of any kind are sold for £100, we say that the average price is £1. By this we mean that the total amount is the same whether the entire lot are sold for £100, or whether we split the lot up into individuals and sell each of these for £1. The average price here is a convenient fictitious substitute, which can be applied for each individual without altering the aggregate total. If therefore the question be, Will a supposed increase of 1 p. c. in each of the 100 years be equivalent to a total increase to double the original amount? we are proposing a closely analogous question. And the answer, as just remarked, must be in the negative. An annual increase of 1 p. c. continued for 100 years will more than double the total; it will multiply it by about 2.7. The true annual increment required is measured by ¹⁰⁰√2; that is, the population may be said to have increased ‘on the average’ 0.7 p. c. annually.

We are thus directed to the second kind of average discussed in the ordinary text-books of algebra, viz. the geometrical. When only two quantities are concerned, with a single intermediate value between them, the geometrical mean constituting this last is best described as the mean proportional between the two former. Thus, since 3 : √15 :: √15 : 5, √15 is the geometrical mean between 3 and 5. When a number of geometrical means have to be interposed between two quantities, they are to be so chosen that every term in the entire succession shall bear the same constant ratio to its predecessor. Thus, in the example in the last paragraph, 99 intermediate steps were to be interposed between 1 and 2, with the condition that the 100 ratios thus produced were to be all equal.

It would seem therefore that wherever accurate quantitative results are concerned, the selection of the appropriate kind of average must depend upon the answer to the question, What particular intermediate value may be safely substituted for the actual variety of values, so far as the precise object in view is concerned? This is an aspect of the subject which will have to be more fully considered in the next chapter. But it may safely be laid down that for purposes of general comparison, where accurate numerical relations are not required, almost any kind of intermediate value will answer our purpose, provided we adhere to the same throughout. Thus, if we want to compare the statures of the inhabitants of different counties or districts in England, or of Englishmen generally with those of Frenchmen, or to ascertain whether the stature of some particular class or district is increasing or diminishing, it really does not seem to matter what sort of average we select provided, of course, that we adhere to the same throughout our investigations. A very large amount of the work performed by averages is of this merely comparative or non-quantitative description; or, at any rate, nothing more than this is really required. This being so, we should naturally resort to the arithmetical average; partly because, having been long in the field, it is universally understood and appealed to, and partly because it happens to be remarkably simple and easy to calculate.

§ 4. The arithmetical mean is for most ordinary purposes the simplest and best. Indeed, when we are dealing with a small number of somewhat artificially selected magnitudes, it is the only mean which any one would think of employing. We should not, for instance, apply any other method to the results of a few dozen measurements of lengths or estimates of prices.

When, however, we come to consider the results of a very large number of measurements of the kind which can be grouped together into some sort of ‘probability curve’ we begin to find that there is more than one alternative before us. Begin by recurring to the familiar curve represented on p. 29; or, better still, to the initial form of it represented in the next chapter (p. 476). We see that there are three different ways in which we may describe the vertex of the curve. We may call it the position of the maximum ordinate; or that of the centre of the curve; or (as will be seen hereafter) the point to which the arithmetical average of all the different values of the variable magnitude directs us. These three are all distinct ways of describing a position; but when we are dealing with a symmetrical curve at all resembling the binomial or exponential form they all three coincide in giving the same result: as they obviously do in the case in question.

As soon, however, as we come to consider the case of asymmetrical, or lop-sided curves, the indications given by these three methods will be as a rule quite distinct; and therefore the two former of these deserve brief notice as representing different kinds of means from the arithmetical or ordinary one. We shall see that there is something about each of them which recommends it to common sense as being in some way natural and appropriate.

§ 5. (3) The first of these selects from amongst the various different magnitudes that particular one which is most frequently represented. It has not acquired any technical designation,[1] except in so far as it is referred to, by its graphical representation, as the “maximum ordinate” method. But I suspect that some appeal to such a mean or standard is really far from uncommon, and that if we could draw out into clearness the conceptions latent in the judgments of the comparatively uncultivated, we should find that there were various classes of cases in which this mean was naturally employed. Suppose, for instance, that there was a fishery in which the fish varied very much in size but in which the commonest size was somewhat near the largest or the smallest. If the men were in the habit of selling their fish by weight, it is probable that they would before long begin to acquire some kind of notion of what is meant by the arithmetical mean or average, and would perceive that this was the most appropriate test. But if the fish were sorted into sizes, and sold by numbers in each of these sizes, I suspect that this appeal to a maximum ordinate would begin to take the place of the other. That is, the most numerous class would come to be selected as a sort of type by which to compare the same fishery at one time and another, or one fishery with others. There is also, as we shall see in the next chapter, some scientific ground for the preference of this kind of mean in peculiar cases; viz. where the quantities with which we deal are true ‘errors,’ in the estimate of some magnitude, and where also it is of much more importance to be exactly right, or very nearly right, than to have merely a low average of error.

§ 6. (4) The remaining kind of mean is that which is now coming to be called the “median.” It is one with which the writings of Mr Galton have done so much to familiarize statisticians, and is best described as follows. Conceive all the objects in question to be marshalled in the order of their magnitude; or, what comes to the same thing, conceive them sorted into a number of equally numerous classes; then the middle one of the row, or the middle one in the middle class, will be the median. I do not think that this kind of mean is at all generally recognized at present, but if Mr Galton's scheme of natural measurement by what he calls “per-centiles” should come to be generally adopted, such a test would become an important one. There are some conspicuous advantages about this kind of mean. For one thing, in most statistical enquiries, it is far the simplest to calculate; and, what is more, the process of determining it serves also to assign another important element to be presently noticed, viz. the ‘probable error.’ Then again, as Fechner notes, whereas in the arithmetical mean a few exceptional and extreme values will often cause perplexity by their comparative preponderance, in the case of the median (where their number only and not their extreme magnitude is taken into account) the importance of such disturbance is diminished.

§ 7. A simple illustration will serve to indicate how these three kinds of mean coalesce into one when we are dealing with symmetrical Laws of Error, but become quite distinct as soon as we come to consider those which are unsymmetrical.

Suppose that, in measuring a magnitude along OBDC, where the extreme limits are OB and OC, the law of error is represented by the triangle BAC: the length OD will be at once the arithmetical mean, the median, and the most frequent length: its frequency being represented by the maximum ordinate AD. But now suppose, on the other hand, that the extreme lengths are OD and OC, and that the triangle ADC represents the law of error. The most frequent length will be the same as before, OD, marked by the maximum ordinate AD. But the mean value will now be OX, where DX = ¹/₃DC; and the median will be OY, where DY = (1 − ¹/_√2)DC.

Another example, taken from natural phenomena, may be found in the heights of the barometer as taken at the same hour on successive days. So far as 4857 of these may be regarded as furnishing a sufficiently stable basis of experience, it certainly seems that the resulting curve of frequency is asymmetrical. The mean height here was found to be 29.98: the median was 30.01: the most frequent height was 30.05. The close approximation amongst these is an indication that the asymmetry is slight.[2]

§ 8. It must be clearly understood that the average, of whatever kind it may be, from the mere fact of its being a single substitute for an actual plurality of observed values, must let slip a considerable amount of information. In fact it is only introduced for economy. It may entail no loss when used for some one assigned purpose, as in our example about the sheep; but for purposes in general it cannot possibly take the place of the original diversity, by yielding all the information which they contained. If all this is to be retained we must resort to some other method. Practically we generally do one of two things: either (1) we put all the figures down in statistical tables, or (2) we appeal to a diagram. This last plan is convenient when the data are very numerous, or when we wish to display or to discover the nature of the law of facility under which they range.

The mere assignment of an average lets drop nearly all of this, confining itself to the indication of an intermediate value. It gives a “middle point” of some kind, but says nothing whatever as to how the original magnitudes were grouped about this point. For instance, whether two magnitudes had been respectively 25 and 27, or 15 and 37, they would yield the same arithmetical average of 26.

§ 9. To break off at this stage would clearly be to leave the problem in a very imperfect condition. We therefore naturally seek for some simple test which shall indicate how closely the separate results were grouped about their average, so as to recover some part of the information which had been let slip.

If any one were approaching this problem entirely anew,—that is, if he had no knowledge of the mathematical exigencies which attend the theory of “Least Squares,”—I apprehend that there is but one way in which he would set about the business. He would say, The average which we have already obtained gave us a rough indication, by assigning an intermediate point amongst the original magnitudes. If we want to supplement this by a rough indication as to how near together these magnitudes lie, the best way will be to treat their departures from the mean (what are technically called the “errors”) in precisely the same way, viz. by assigning their average. Suppose there are 13 men whose heights vary by equal differences from 5 feet to 6 feet, we should say that their average height was 66 inches, and their average departure from this average was 3³/₁₃ inches.

Looked at from this point of view we should then proceed to try how each of the above-named averages would answer the purpose. Two of them,—viz. the arithmetical mean and the median,—will answer perfectly; and, as we shall immediately see, are frequently used for the purpose. So too we could, if we pleased, employ the geometrical mean, though such employment would be tedious, owing to the difficulty of calculation. The ‘maximum ordinate’ clearly would not answer, since it would generally (v. the diagram on p. 443) refer us back again to the average already obtained, and therefore give no information.

The only point here about which any doubt could arise concerns what is called in algebra the sign of the errors. Two equal and opposite errors, added algebraically, would cancel each other. But when, as here, we are regarding the errors as substantive quantities, to be considered on their own account, we attend only to their real magnitude, and then these equal and opposite errors are to be put upon exactly the same footing.

§ 10. Of the various means already discussed, two, as just remarked, are in common use. One of these is familiarly known, in astronomical and other calculations, as the ‘Mean Error,’ and is so absolutely an application of the same principle of the arithmetical mean to the errors, that has been already applied to the original magnitudes, that it needs no further explanation. Thus in the example in the last section the mean of the heights was 66 inches, the mean of the errors was 3³/₁₃ inches.

The other is the Median, though here it is always known under another name, i.e. as the ‘Probable Error’;—a technical and decidedly misleading term. It is briefly defined as that error which we are as likely to exceed as to fall short of: otherwise phrased, if we were to arrange all the errors in the order of their magnitude, it corresponds to that one of them which just bisects the row. It is therefore the ‘median’ error: or, if we arrange all the magnitudes in successive order, and divide them into four equally numerous classes,—what Mr Galton calls ‘quartiles,’—the first and third of the consequent divisions will mark the limits of the ‘probable error’ on each side, whilst the middle one will mark the ‘median.’ This median, as was remarked, coincides, in symmetrical curves, with the arithmetical mean.

It is best to stand by accepted nomenclature, but the reader must understand that such an error is not in any strict sense ‘probable.’ It is indeed highly improbable that in any particular instance we should happen to get just this error: in fact, if we chose to be precise and to regard it as one exact magnitude out of an infinite number, it would be infinitely unlikely that we should hit upon it. Nor can it be said to be probable that we shall be within this limit of the truth, for, by definition, we are just as likely to exceed as to fall short. As already remarked (see note on p. 441), the ‘maximum ordinate’ would have the best right to be regarded as indicating the really most probable value.

§ 11. (5) The error of mean square. As previously suggested, the plan which would naturally be adopted by any one who had no concern with the higher mathematics of the subject, would be to take the ‘mean error’ for the purpose of the indication in view. But a very different kind of average is generally adopted in practice to serve as a test of the amount of divergence or dispersion. Suppose that we have the magnitudes x₁, x₂, … x_n; their ordinary average is ¹/_n(x₁ + x₂ + … + x_n), and their ‘errors’ are the differences between this and x₁, x₂, … x_n. Call these errors e₁, e₂, … e_n, then the arithmetical mean of these errors (irrespective of sign) is ¹/_n(e₁ + e₂ + … + e_n). The Error of Mean Square,[3] on the other hand, is the square root of ¹/_n(e₁² + e₂² + … + e_n²).

The reasons for employing this latter kind of average in preference to any of the others will be indicated in the following chapter. At present we are concerned only with the general logical nature of an average, and it is therefore sufficient to point out that any such intermediate value will answer the purpose of giving a rough and summary indication of the degree of closeness of approximation which our various measures display to each other and to their common average. If we were to speak respectively of the ‘first’ and the ‘second average,’ we might say that the former of these assigns a rough single substitute for the plurality of original values, whilst the latter gives a similar rough estimate of the degree of their departure from the former.

§ 12. So far we have only been considering the general nature of an average, and the principal kinds of average practically in use. We must now enquire more particularly what are the principal purposes for which averages are employed.

In this respect the first thing we have to do is to raise doubts in the reader's mind on a subject on which he perhaps has not hitherto felt the slightest doubt. Every one is more or less familiar with the practice of appealing to an average in order to secure accuracy. But distinctly what we begin by doing is to sacrifice accuracy; for in place of the plurality of actual results we get a single result which very possibly does not agree with any one of them. If I find the temperature in different parts of a room to be different, but say that the average temperature is 61°, there may perhaps be but few parts of the room where this exact temperature is realized. And if I say that the average stature of a certain small group of men is 68 inches, it is probable that no one of them will present precisely this height.

The principal way in which accuracy can be thus secured is when what we are really aiming at is not the magnitudes before us but something else of which they are an indication. If they are themselves ‘inaccurate,’—we shall see presently that this needs some explanation,—then the single average, which in itself agrees perhaps with none of them, may be much more nearly what we are actually in want of. We shall find it convenient to subdivide this view of the subject into two parts; by considering first those cases in which quantitative considerations enter but slightly, and in which no determination of the particular Law of Error involved is demanded, and secondly those in which such determination cannot be avoided. The latter are only noticed in passing here, as a separate chapter is reserved for their fuller consideration.

§ 13. The process, as a practical one, is familiar enough to almost everybody who has to work with measures of any kind. Suppose, for instance, that I am measuring any object with a brass rod which, as we know, expands and contracts according to the temperature. The results will vary slightly, being sometimes a little too great and sometimes a little too small. All these variations are physical facts, and if what we were concerned with was the properties of brass they would be the one important fact for us. But when we are concerned with the length of the object measured, these facts become superfluous and misleading. What we want to do is to escape their influence, and this we are enabled to effect by taking their (arithmetical) average, provided only they are as often in excess as in defect.[4] For this purpose all that is necessary is that equal excesses and defects should be equally prevalent. It is not necessary to know what is the law of variation, or even to be assured that it is of one particular kind. Provided only that it is in the language of the diagram on p. 29, symmetrical, then the arithmetical average of a suitable and suitably varied number of measurements will be free from this source of disturbance. And what holds good of this cause of variation will hold good of all others which obey the same general conditions. In fact the equal prevalence of equal and opposite errors seems to be the sole and sufficient justification of the familiar process of taking the average in order to secure accuracy.

§ 14. We must now make the distinction to which attention requires so often to be drawn in these subjects between the cases in which there respectively is, and is not, some objective magnitude aimed at: a distinction which the common use of the same word “errors” is so apt to obscure. When we talked, in the case of the brass rod, of excesses and defects being equal, we meant exactly what we said, viz. that for every case in which the ‘true’ length (i.e. that determined by the authorized standard) is exceeded by a given fraction of an inch, there will be a corresponding case in which there is an equal defect.

On the other hand, when there is no such fixed objective standard of reference, it would appear that all that we mean by equal excesses and defects is permanent symmetry of arrangement. In the case of the measuring rod we were able to start with something which existed, so to say, before its variations; but in many cases any starting point which we can find is solely determined by the average.

Suppose, for instance, we take a great number of observations of the height of the barometer at a certain place, at all times and seasons and in all weathers, we should generally consider that the average of all these showed the ‘true’ height for that place. What we really mean is that the height at any moment is determined partly (and principally) by the height of the column of air above it, but partly also by a number of other agencies such as local temperature, moisture, wind, &c. These are sometimes more and sometimes less effective, but their range being tolerably constant, and their distribution through this range being tolerably symmetrical, the average of one large batch of observations will be almost exactly the same as that of any other. This constancy of the average is its truth. I am quite aware that we find it difficult not to suppose that there must be something more than this constancy, but we are probably apt to be misled by the analogy of the other class of cases, viz. those in which we are really aiming at some sort of mark.

§ 15. As regards the practical methods available for determining the various kinds of average there is very little to be said; as the arithmetical rules are simple and definite, and involve nothing more than the inevitable drudgery attendant upon dealing with long rows of figures. Perhaps the most important contribution to this part of the subject is furnished by Mr Galton's suggestion to substitute the median for the mean, and thus to elicit the average with sufficient accuracy by the mere act of grouping a number of objects together. Thus he has given an ingenious suggestion for obtaining the average height of a number of men without the trouble and risk of measuring them all. “A barbarian chief might often be induced to marshall his men in the order of their heights, or in that of the popular estimate of their skill in any capacity; but it would require some apparatus and a great deal of time to measure each man separately, even supposing it possible to overcome the usually strong repugnance of uncivilized people to any such proceeding” (Phil. Mag. Jan. 1875). That is, it being known from wide experience that the heights of any tolerably homogeneous set of men are apt to group themselves symmetrically,—the condition for the coincidence of the three principal kinds of mean,—the middle man of a row thus arranged in order will represent the mean or average man, and him we may subject to measurement. Moreover, since the intermediate heights are much more thickly represented than the extreme ones, a moderate error in the selection of the central man of a long row will only entail a very small error in the selection of the corresponding height.

§ 16. We can now conveniently recur to a subject which has been already noticed in a former chapter, viz. the attempt which is sometimes made to establish a distinction between an average and a mean. It has been proposed to confine the former term to the cases in which we are dealing with a fictitious result of our own construction, that is, with a mere arithmetical deduction from the observed magnitudes, and to apply the latter to cases in which there is supposed to be some objective magnitude peculiarly representative of the average.

Recur to the three principal classes, of things appropriate to Probability, which were sketched out in Ch. II. § 4. The first of these comprised the results of games of chance. Toss a die ten times: the total number of pips on the upper side may vary from ten up to sixty. Suppose it to be thirty. We then say that the average of this batch of ten is three. Take another set of ten throws, and we may get another average, say four. There is clearly nothing objective peculiarly corresponding in any way to these averages. No doubt if we go on long enough we shall find that the averages tend to centre about 3.5: we then call this the average, or the ‘probable’ number of points; and this ultimate average might have been pretty constantly asserted beforehand from our knowledge of the constitution of a die. It has however no other truth or reality about it of the nature of a type: it is simply the limit towards which the averages tend.

The next class is that occupied by the members of most natural groups of objects, especially as regards the characteristics of natural species. Somewhat similar remarks may be repeated here. There is very frequently a ‘limit’ towards which the averages of increasing numbers of individuals tend to approach; and there is certainly some temptation to regard this limit as being a sort of type which all had been intended to resemble as closely as possible. But when we looked closer, we found that this view could scarcely be justified; all which could be safely asserted was that this type represented, for the time being, the most numerous specimens, or those which under existing conditions could most easily be produced.

The remaining class stands on a somewhat different ground. When we make a succession of more or less successful attempts of any kind, we get a corresponding series of deviations from the mark at which we aimed. These we may treat arithmetically, and obtain their averages, just as in the former cases. These averages are fictions, that is to say, they are artificial deductions of our own which need not necessarily have anything objective corresponding to them. In fact, if they be averages of a few only they most probably will not have anything thus corresponding to them. Anything answering to a type can only be sought in the ‘limit’ towards which they ultimately tend, for this limit coincides with the fixed point or object aimed at.

§ 17. Fully admitting the great value and interest of Quetelet's work in this direction,—he was certainly the first to direct public attention to the fact that so many classes of natural objects display the same characteristic property,—it nevertheless does not seem desirable to attempt to mark such a distinction by any special use of these technical terms. The objections are principally the two following.

In the first place, a single antithesis, like this between an average and a mean, appears to suggest a very much simpler state of things than is actually found to exist in nature. A reference to the three classes of things just mentioned, and a consideration of the wide range and diversity included in each of them, will serve to remind us not only of the very gradual and insensible advance from what is thus regarded as ‘fictitious’ to what is claimed as ‘real;’ but also of the important fact that whereas the ‘real type’ may be of a fluctuating and evanescent character, the ‘fiction’ may (as in games of chance) be apparently fixed for ever. Provided only that the conditions of production remain stable, averages of large numbers will always practically present much the same general characteristics. The far more important distinction lies between the average of a few, with its fluctuating values and very imperfect and occasional attainment of its ultimate goal, and the average of many and its gradually close approximation to its ultimate value: i.e. to its objective point of aim if there happen to be such.

Then, again, the considerations adduced in this chapter will show that within the field of the average itself there is far more variety than Quetelet seems to have recognized. He did not indeed quite ignore this variety, but he practically confined himself almost entirely to those symmetrical arrangements in which three of the principal means coalesce into one. We should find it difficult to carry out his distinction in less simple cases. For instance, when there is some degree of asymmetry, it is the ‘maximum ordinate’ which would have to be considered as a ‘mean’ to the exclusion of the others; for no appeal to an arithmetical average would guide us to this point, which however is to be regarded, if any can be so regarded, as marking out the position of the ultimate type.

§ 18. We have several times pointed out that it is a characteristic of the things with which Probability is concerned to present, in the long run, a continually intensifying uniformity. And this has been frequently described as what happens ‘on the average.’ Now an objection may very possibly be raised against regarding an arrangement of things by virtue of which order thus emerges out of disorder as deserving any special notice, on the ground that from the nature of the arithmetical average it could not possibly be otherwise. The process by which an average is obtained, it may be urged, insures this tendency to equalization amongst the magnitudes with which it deals. For instance, let there be a party of ten men, of whom four are tall and four are short, and take the average of any five of them. Since this number cannot be made up of tall men only, or of short men only, it stands to reason that the averages cannot differ so much amongst themselves as the single measures can. Is not then the equalizing process, it may be asked, which is observable on increasing the range of our observations, one which can be shown to follow from necessary laws of arithmetic, and one therefore which might be asserted à priori?

Whatever force there may be in the above objection arises principally from the limitations of the example selected, in which the number chosen was so large a proportion of the total as to exclude the bare possibility of only extreme cases being contained within it. As much confusion is often felt here between what is necessary and what is matter of experience, it will be well to look at an example somewhat more closely, in order to determine exactly what are the really necessary consequences of the averaging process.

§ 19. Suppose then that we take ten digits at random from a table (say) of logarithms. Unless in the highly unlikely case of our having happened upon the same digit ten times running, the average of the ten must be intermediate between the possible extremes. Every conception of an average of any sort not merely involves, but actually means, the taking of something intermediate between the extremes. The average therefore of the ten must lie closer to 4.5 (the average of the extremes) than did some of the single digits.

Now suppose we take 1000 such digits instead of 10. We can say nothing more about the larger number, with demonstrative certainty, than we could before about the smaller. If they were unequal to begin with (i.e. if they were not all the same) then the average must be intermediate, but more than this cannot be proved arithmetically. By comparison with such purely arithmetical considerations there is what may be called a physical fact underlying our confidence in the growing stability of the average of the larger number. It is that the constituent elements from which the average is deduced will themselves betray a growing uniformity:—that the proportions in which the different digits come out will become more and more nearly equal as we take larger numbers of them. If the proportions in which the 1000 digits were distributed were the same as those of the 10 the averages would be the same. It is obvious therefore that the arithmetical process of obtaining an average goes a very little way towards securing the striking kind of uniformity which we find to be actually presented.

§ 20. There is another way in which the same thing may be put. It is sometimes said that whatever may have been the arrangement of the original elements the process of continual averaging will necessarily produce the peculiar binomial or exponential law of arrangement. This statement is perfectly true (with certain safeguards) but it is not in any way opposed to what has been said above. Let us take for consideration the example above referred to. The arrangement of the individual digits in the long run is the simplest possible. It would be represented, in a diagram, not by a curve but by a finite straight line, for each digit occurs about as often as any other, and this exhausts all the ‘arrangement’ that can be detected. Now, when we consider the results of taking averages of ten such digits, we see at once that there is an opening for a more extensive arrangement. The totals may range from 0 up to 100, and therefore the average will have 100 values from 0 to 9; and what we find is that the frequency of these numbers is determined according to the Binomial[5] or Exponential Law. The most frequent result is the true mean, viz. 4.5, and from this they diminish in each direction towards 0 and 10, which will each occur but once (on the average) in 10¹⁰ occasions.

The explanation here is of the same kind as in the former case. The resultant arrangement, so far as the averages are concerned, is only ‘necessary’ in the sense that it is a necessary result of certain physical assumptions or experiences. If all the digits tend to occur with equal frequency, and if they are ‘independent’ (i.e. if each is associated indifferently with every other), then it is an arithmetical consequence that the averages when arranged in respect of their magnitude and prevalence will display the Law of Facility above indicated. Experience, so far as it can be appealed to, shows that the true randomness of the selection of the digits,—i.e. their equally frequent recurrence, and the impartiality of their combination,—is very fairly secured in practice. Accordingly the theoretic deduction that whatever may have been the original Law of Facility of the individual results we shall always find the familiar Exponential Law asserting itself as the law of the averages, is fairly justified by experience in such a case.

The further discussion of certain corrections and refinements is reserved to the following chapter.

§ 21. In regard to the three kinds of average employed to test the amount of dispersion,—i.e. the mean error, the probable error, and the error of mean square,—two important considerations must be borne in mind. They will both recur for fuller discussion and justification in the course of the next chapter, when we come to touch upon the Method of Least Squares, but their significance for logical purposes is so great that they ought not to be entirely passed by at present.

(1) In the first place, then, it must be remarked that in order to know what in any case is the real value of an error we ought in strictness to know what is the position of the limit or ultimate average, for the amount of an error is always theoretically measured from this point. But this is information which we do not always possess. Recurring once more to the three principal classes of events with which we are concerned, we can readily see that in the case of games of chance we mostly do possess this knowledge. Instead of appealing to experience to ascertain the limit, we practically deduce it by simple mechanical or arithmetical considerations, and then the ‘error’ in any individual case or group of cases is obviously found by comparing the results thus obtained with that which theory informs us would ultimately be obtained in the long run. In the case of deliberate efforts at an aim (the third class) we may or may not know accurately the value or position of this aim. In astronomical observations we do not know it, and the method of Least Squares is a method for helping us to ascertain it as well as we can; in such experimental results as firing at a mark we do know it, and may thus test the nature and amount of our failure by direct experience. In the remaining case, namely that of what we have termed natural kinds or groups of things, not only do we not know the ultimate limit, but its existence is always at least doubtful, and in many cases may be confidently denied. Where it does exist, that is, where the type seems for all practical purposes permanently fixed, we can only ascertain it by a laborious resort to statistics. Having done this, we may then test by it the results of observations on a small scale. For instance, if we find that the ultimate proportion of male to female births is about 106 to 100, we may then compare the statistics of some particular district or town and speak of the consequent ‘error,’ viz. the departure, in that particular and special district, from the general average.

What we have therefore to do in the vast majority of practical cases is to take the average of a finite number of measurements or observations,—of all those, in fact, which we have in hand,—and take this as our starting point in order to measure the errors. The errors in fact are not known for certain but only probably calculated. This however is not so much of a theoretic defect as it may seem at first sight; for inasmuch as we seldom have to employ these methods,—for purposes of calculation, that is, as distinguished from mere illustration,—except for the purpose of discovering what the ultimate average is, it would be a sort of petitio principii to assume that we had already secured it. But it is worth while considering whether it is desirable to employ one and the same term for ‘errors’ known to be such, and whose amount can be assigned with certainty, and for ‘errors’ which are only probably such and whose amount can be only probably assigned. In fact it has been proposed[6] to employ the two terms ‘error’ and ‘residual’ respectively to distinguish between the magnitudes thus determined, that is, between the (generally unknown) actual error and the observed error.

§ 22. (2) The other point involves the question to what extent either of the first two tests (pp. 446, 7) of the closeness with which the various results have grouped themselves about their average is trustworthy or complete. The answer is that they are necessarily incomplete. No single estimate or magnitude can possibly give us an adequate account of a number of various magnitudes. The point is a very important one; and is not, I think, sufficiently attended to, the consequence being, as we shall see hereafter, that it is far too summarily assumed that a method which yields the result with the least ‘error of mean square’ must necessarily be the best result for all purposes. It is not however by any means clear that a test which answers best for one purpose must do so for all.

It must be clearly understood that each of these tests is an ‘average,’ and that every average necessarily rejects a mass of varied detail by substituting for it a single result. We had, say, a lot of statures: so many of 60 inches, so many of 61, &c. We replace these by an ‘average’ of 68, and thereby drop a mass of information. A portion of this we then seek to recover by reconsidering the ‘errors’ or departures of these statures from their average. As before, however, instead of giving the full details we substitute an average of the errors. The only difference is that instead of taking the same kind of average (i.e. the arithmetical) we often prefer to adopt the one called the ‘error of mean square.’

§ 23. A question may be raised here which is of sufficient importance to deserve a short consideration. When we have got a set of measurements before us, why is it generally held to be sufficient simply to assign: (1) the mean value; and (2) the mean departure from this mean? The answer is, of course, partly given by the fact that we are only supposed to be in want of a rough approximation: but there is more to be said than this. A further justification is to be found in the fact that we assume that we need only contemplate the possibility of a single Law of Error, or at any rate that the departures from the familiar Law will be but trifling. In other words, if we recur to the figure on p. 29, we assume that there are only two unknown quantities or disposable constants to be assigned; viz. first, the position of the centre, and, secondly, the degree of eccentricity, if one may so term it, of the curve. The determination of the mean value directly and at once assigns the former, and the determination of the mean error (in either of the ways referred to already) indirectly assigns the latter by confining us to one alone of the possible curves indicated in the figure.

Except for the assumption of one such Law of Error the determination of the mean error would give but a slight intimation of the sort of outline of our Curve of Facility. We might then have found it convenient to adopt some plan of successive approximation, by adding a third or fourth ‘mean.’ Just as we assign the mean value of the magnitude, and its mean departure from this mean; so we might take this mean error (however determined) as a fresh starting point, and assign the mean departure from it. If the point were worth further discussion we might easily illustrate by means of a diagram the sort of successive approximations which such indications would yield as to the ultimate form of the Curve of Facility or Law of Error.

---