The truth is that we seldom calculate or have any occasion to calculate individual chances except as a matter of curiosity. It is true that insurance offices calculate probabilities, but it is not the probability of this or that man dying at a particular age. The precise shade of probability for the individual, in so far as this depends on vital statistics, is a matter of indifference to the company as long as the average is maintained. Our expectations about any individual life cannot be measured by a calculation of the chances because a variety of other elements affect those expectations. We form beliefs about individual cases, but we try to get surer grounds for them than the chances as calculable from statistical data. Suppose a person were to institute a home for lost dogs, he would doubtless try to ascertain how many dogs were likely to go astray, and in so doing would be guided by statistics. But in judging of the probability of the straying of a particular dog, he would pay little heed to statistics as determining the chances, but would proceed upon empirical knowledge of the character of the dog and his master. Even in betting on the field against a particular horse, the bookmaker does not calculate from numerical data such as the number of horses entered or the number of times the favourite has been beaten: he tries to get at the pedigree and previous performances of the various horses in the running. We proceed by calculation of chances only when we cannot do better.
[Footnote 2: Mr. Jevons held that all inference is merely probable and that no inference is certain. But this is a purposeless repudiation of common meaning, which he cannot himself consistently adhere to. We find him saying that if a penny is tossed into the air it will _certainly_ come down on one side or the other, on which side being a matter of probability. In common speech probability is applied to a degree of belief short of certainty, but to say that certainty is the highest degree of probability does no violence to the common meaning.]
The word Analogy was appropriated by Mill, in accordance with the usage of the eighteenth century, to designate a ground of inference distinct from that on which we proceed in extending a law, empirical or scientific, to a new case. But it is used in various other senses, more or less similar, and in order to make clear the exact logical sense, it is well to specify some of these. The original word [Greek: analogia], as employed by Aristotle, corresponds to the word Proportion in Arithmetic: it signified an equality of ratios, [Greek: isotês logôn]: two compared with four is analogous to four compared with eight. There is something of the same meaning in the technical use of the word in Physiology, where it is used to signify similarity of function as distinguished from similarity of structure, which is called homology: thus the tail of a whale is analogous to the tail of a fish, inasmuch as it is similarly used for motion, but it is homologous with the hind legs of a quadruped; a man's arms are homologous with a horse's fore legs, but they are not analogous inasmuch as they are not used for progression. Apart from these technical employments, the word is loosely used in common speech for any kind of resemblance. Thus De Quincey speaks of the "analogical" power in memory, meaning thereby the power of recalling things by their inherent likeness as distinguished from their casual connexions or their order in a series. But even in common speech, there is a trace of the original meaning: generally when we speak of analogy we have in our minds more than one pair of things, and what we call the analogy is some resemblance between the different pairs. This is probably what Whately had in view when he defined analogy as "resemblance of relations".