The latter supposition is by no means absurd, for any one order is as likely as any other when there is no preponderating tendency. But we can readily calculate by the doctrine of permutations the probability that fifty-two objects would fall by chance into any one particular order. Fifty-two objects can be arranged in 52 × 51 × ... × 3 × 2 × 1 or about 8066 × (10)^{64} possible orders, the number obtained requiring 68 places of figures for its full expression. Hence it is excessively unlikely that anyone should ever meet with a pack of cards arranged in perfect order by accident. If we do meet with a pack so arranged, we inevitably adopt the other supposition, that some person, having reasons for preferring that special order, has thus put them together. We know that of the immense number of possible orders the numerical order is the most remarkable; it is useful as proving the perfect constitution of the pack, and it is the intentional result of certain games. At any rate, the probability that intention should produce that order is incomparably greater than the probability that chance should produce it; and as a certain pack exists in that order, we rightly prefer the supposition which most probably leads to the observed result. By a similar mode of reasoning we every day arrive, and validly arrive, at conclusions approximating to certainty. Whenever we observe a perfect resemblance between two objects, as, for instance, two printed pages, two engravings, two coins, two foot-prints, we are warranted in asserting that they proceed from the same type, the same plate, the same pair of dies, or the same boot. And why? Because it is almost impossible that with different types, plates, dies, or boots some apparent distinction of form should not be produced. It is impossible for the hand of the most skilful artist to make two objects alike, so that mechanical repetition is the only probable explanation of exact similarity.