We are therefore obliged to complete this definition by saying: '... to the total number of possible cases provided these cases are equally probable.' So, therefore, we are reduced to defining the probable by the probable. How can we know that two possible cases are equally probable? Will it be by a convention? If we place at the beginning of each problem an explicit convention, well and good. We shall then have nothing to do but apply the rules of arithmetic and of algebra, and we shall complete our calculation without our result leaving room for doubt. But if we wish to make the slightest application of this result, we must prove our convention was legitimate, and we shall find ourselves in the presence of the very difficulty we thought to escape. Will it be said that good sense suffices to show us what convention should be adopted? Alas! M. Bertrand has amused himself by discussing the following simple problem: "What is the probability that a chord of a circle may be greater than the side of the inscribed equilateral triangle?" The illustrious geometer successively adopted two conventions which good sense seemed equally to dictate and with one he found 1/2, with the other 1/3. The conclusion which seems to follow from all this is that the calculus of probabilities is a useless science, and that the obscure instinct which we may call good sense, and to which we are wont to appeal to legitimatize our conventions, must be distrusted. But neither can we subscribe to this conclusion; we can not do without this obscure instinct. Without it science would be impossible, without it we could neither discover a law nor apply it. Have we the right, for instance, to enunciate Newton's law? Without doubt, numerous observations are in accord with it; but is not this a simple effect of chance? Besides how do we know whether this law, true for so many centuries, will still be true next year? To this objection, you will find nothing to reply, except: 'That is very improbable.' But grant the law. Thanks to it, I believe myself able to calculate the position of Jupiter a year from now. Have I the right to believe this? Who can tell if a gigantic mass of enormous velocity will not between now and that time pass near the solar system, and produce unforeseen perturbations? Here again the only answer is: 'It is very improbable.' From this point of view, all the sciences would be only unconscious applications of the calculus of probabilities. To condemn this calculus would be to condemn the whole of science. I shall dwell lightly on the scientific problems in which the intervention of the calculus of probabilities is more evident. In the forefront of these is the problem of interpolation, in which, knowing a certain number of values of a function, we seek to divine the intermediate values.