Before getting to the notion of distinctness, Crusius actually begins with the notions of truth and perfection of concept, which he emphasises to be two very different things. Concept is true, he says, if the (actual or possible) object supposedly corresponding to the concept has precisely that what is represented in the concept. Perfection of the concept, on the other hand, refers to the measure in which the concept represents its object. This perfection, Crusius adds, is also called the distinctness of the topic of the concept.
What does this perfection or distinctness then mean? Crusius explains that if we want to use concepts, we must be able to distinguish them in our understanding. Furthermore, he adds, if we are to make the most complete use of concepts, they must represent so many signs of a thing they are concepts of that we can through these signs recognise the corresponding thing outside our thought and distinguish it from other things. Crusius compares concepts here to a map: if it was completely black, we could not distinguish the countries at all, and if the borders would be drawn erroneously, we could not use the map as a criterion to distinguish countries in the world. The two types of perfection, he concludes, are essentially different, but the problem is that both are called distinctness. To make the difference of the two notions clear, Crusius calls the former or the capacity to distinguish a concept from other concepts in our understanding an ideal distinctness, while the latter or the capacity to use concept to distinguish objects outside thinking a characteristic distinctness.
Whatever the distinctness we are talking about, Crusius says, it depends partly on the characteristics of the concept itself, partly on the measure of liveliness, with which it is thought. The first aspect, he explains further, depends partly on whether the concept endures in the understanding constantly in the same manner and does not change anymore, since if it does not remain constantly similar, it cannot have any constant similarity or dissimilarity with other concepts. Partly it depends on the measure of the perfection of the content of the concept, that is, on whether the concept contains so many properties and signs that it enables distinguishing the concept constantly from other concepts – or even its object from other objects. The second aspect or the grade of liveliness, by which understanding thinks the concept, is important for distinctness of the concept, Crusius thinks, because without forceful enough activity understanding cannot use the concept for its purposes
Moving on specifically to the ideal distinctness, Crusius notes that it can be divided from the viewpoint of the method, by which one arrives at distinct concepts, and from the viewpoint of the type of knowledge, by which they are thought. Regarding the first type of division, he continues, distinct concepts can be reached through a good concrete idea – then we talk of common distinctness – or through an appropriate abstraction – then we talk of abstract or scholarly distinctness. Crusius notes as one type of abstract distinctness the logical distinctness, in which concept is distinguished from others through the specific method of abstraction used for reaching it. The other type of abstract distinctness, he adds, is the distinctness of essential content, where a concept is distinguished from others through the parts contained in it or through other circumstances connected to it.
Crusius turns his attention first to common distinctness, giving as an example our concept of sour, which we distinguish from the concept of sweet through our concrete idea of what both taste like. With many concepts, he notes, common distinctness is the only possible form of distinctness for us. It is adequate, Crusius thinks, only for such things that are immediately sensed or which are known through sensuous properties, that is, properties that we can think without scientific abstraction. Thus, common distinctness is enough for common practices in human life, but more intricate objects require also scholarly distinctness. Still, Crusius adds, common distinctness of concrete ideas provides us the matter to think about and the guiding thread of our thoughts. Furthermore, he notes, it is not just external sensations where common distinctness is available for us, since drive of conscience provides us a natural feeling of right and wrong that could have common distinctness, if the activity of conscience is not hindered.
Crusius turns his attention to logical distinctness, where one represents, firstly, something concrete, from which the abstract concept in question is to be found. Starting from this concrete, one starts to think away characteristics, until only the desired abstract concept remains and becomes apparent in its separation from other concepts. Crusius underlines that this kind of representation, based on the generation of concept, should not be confused with defining a thing through its manner of generation, since the latter is a form of distinctness of essential content. Logical distinctness, he continues, is especially important for simple concepts, since they cannot have common distinctness, which concerns only individuals, nor distinctness of essential content, since simple concepts cannot have parts required for it.
Moving then to the distinctness of essential content, Crusius points out that the parts used for it are not meant to be real parts, but conceptual or ideal parts, separated through scholarly abstraction. This form of distinctness, he says, is used in definitions, and therefore many scholars ignore other forms of distinctness (Crusius is possibly referring here to Wolffians). This type of distinctness has grades, since it can be made more perfect by dividing the parts of the concept further, but it must finally end with logical or common distinctness. Thus, Crusius concludes, distinctness does not end in obscurity, but in another type of distinctness. Furthermore, he adds, the division of concept does not provide distinctness, if the parts cannot be distinguished from one another, hence, the highest concepts of ontology must be the most logically distinct.
Crusius emphasises that ideal distinctness of concepts differs from distinctness of words, which means the capacity to use a word appropriately for distinguishing the corresponding concrete idea from others. He also distinguishes the ideal distinctness of a concept from the ease, by which it can be understood without great effort and subtle abstraction.
Distinctness, Crusius tells the reader, is opposed to obscurity, which thus has as many types as distinctness. Particularly, obscurity can concern concepts or words. Furthermore, Crusius adds, we can speak of the obscurity of things, which means simply imperfection of knowledge. Obscurity of things should not be confused with obscurity of concepts, he emphasises, because while a thing is obscure to us only if we do not know its whole nature, concepts of the aspects we do know of it can still be distinct. Indeed, although we would have a distinct concept, this distinctness might be based only on a few properties, so that the full nature of the thing might still remain obscure, because we do not know its other properties.
Crusius divides obscurity also according to causes generating it. Thus, obscurity might be subjective, if it is based on the circumstances of the person in question, so that other persons do not share these circumstances or at least they are not based on their essential facilities. The other type of obscurity, on the other hand, depends on the essential facilities of the persons of the same kind and is thus shared by all of them: Crusius calls this objective obscurity. So, words can be subjectively obscure, if a person is not familiar with the language, but they can also be objectively obscure, if they are not used so determinately that their meaning could be fixed with normal rules of interpretation. Similarly, a scholarly concept is subjectively obscure, if a person trying to learn that concept is weak of understanding, but objectively obscure, if there’s not enough signs to distinguish it from others. Finally, a thing is objectively obscure, if human understanding does not have capacities required for knowing what remains unknown about it.
Crusius offers some rules for making concepts more ideally distinct. Firstly, he begins, each concept that should be used constantly must be distinctly thinkable at least in some sense, thus, we should see what kind of distinctness a concept is capable of and how far the distinctness can be taken. Crusius divides concepts in this sense to three types: unanalysable concepts allow only common distinctness, the simple or fully analysed concepts allow only logical distinctness, while those in between allow all three kinds of distinctness. When deciding what kind of distinctness we want, we must know for what purpose they are required: for instance, for the purposes of human life the common distinctness is enough. Even with most of the scholarly things, Crusius thinks, it is enough to combine common distinctness with the capacity to analyse things and thus the distinctness of essential content. Still, it is very useful for understanding, if a scholar tries to have all three forms of distinctness, wherever possible.
Crusius notes that we should try to think all the parts of a concept together at the same time, because in the combination of many partial properties lie the most beautiful points of distinction. Thus, when all these parts are represented together, the concept is more easily distinguished from others and so more distinct, just like a face is easier to recognise, when you look at all the parts all at once and not one after another.
Crusius suggests that we should try to apply abstract concepts to a corresponding concrete case, as if one would abstract them from this anew. He thinks this application is a means to make concepts more distinct, because this is the method by which we discover abstract concepts, and the more we use it, the more perfect our abstract concepts are. Crusius considers this application also a sign of distinctness, because just as we can reach abstract concepts from a corresponding concrete case, similarly we must be able to imagine the concrete case, when we think of the corresponding abstract concepts in a remarkably perfect manner. This means also that general abstractions should be applied to examples, from which they could be abstracted by removing the individuality of the examples and all the concepts not belonging to these abstractions.
Crusius notes particularly of causal abstractions that for their perfect distinctness it is not enough just to give an specific case corresponding to this abstraction. Instead, one should also make comprehensible the manner in which the causal abstraction connects to a given causal relation, so that one could distinguish the dependence of this particular effect from this particular cause from the dependence of another particular effect from another particular cause. Furthermore, Crusius adds, the link between the cause and any of its effects should be drawn through immediate links between a cause and an effect. Still, he admits, all of this is demanded only if our causal abstractions should be perfectly distinct, whereas we can be convinced of certain causal relations and even know them distinctly in the sense of distinguishing them from other causal relations, even if the structure of this particular causal relation is not yet known in a fully distinct manner.
Even if we don’t know an actual concrete case, to which we could apply the abstraction and thus prove its distinctness, Crusius suggests, we could also just merely imagine a possible case or at least find some analogical case to consider. Of course, he warns the reader, we should not be deceived by analogies, but distinctly abstract the point of similarity that should make apparent what is compared with the analogy, for instance, when we compare the human body to a hydraulic machine. If we do not fully understand the analogy, we should at least try to use our capacity of abstraction to provide two cases similar to one another where admitting the possibility or actuality of the first makes it necessary to admit also the other case. In other words, Crusius exemplifies, if a person wanted to make the idea of a generation of the soul of children from the souls of the parents distinct and for this reason compared it to the case of light or fire being lit by another light or fire, this comparison would help nothing for distinctness, because the compared circumstances are not similar in the important sense: the fire lighting the others does not generate the substance of the lighted fire.
Crusius states that thinking a magnitude distinctly requires measuring it and gaining a distinct concept of the unity we use for measuring. Thus, he explains, while extensive magnitudes are measured with other extensive magnitudes, what Crusius calls magnitudes of quality, such as force or action, should be measured through their known effects. Yet, he asks the reader also to be cautious when they choose the effect for measurement. For instance, if the magnitude of some quality is represented through an effect that it generates after a certain period of time, this does not mean that waiting for double amount of time would double the effect, because some forces lose their capacity through action – if I can learn something in an hour, I cannot learn twice as much by increasing the time.
After presenting the previous rules, Crusius goes on to divide ideal distinctness in regard to the type of knowledge that one has of things in thinking them distinctly. Firstly, he begins, when we think of something, we may designate it positively, that is, assign to this thing something that could also be separated from it, like when we think that sun (a thing) shines (the additional thought). Then again, we could also designate the thing negatively, that is, separate an undetermined concept from something that does not belong to it, like when we think that God has no organs.
A positive concept, Crusius continues, is either absolute, representing abstraction from a single thing, or relative, representing abstraction from several things at the same time. He notes that relative concept presupposes that we represent at least two things with an absolute concept, and indeed, the better we understand what absolute lies on the basis of a relative concept, the more distinct the relative concept becomes. This explains, Crusius notes, why we desire knowledge of absolute matters, but this does not mean that knowledge of relative matters could not be certain.
When we represent something, Crusius goes on, we think it through what it is in itself or through concepts acting as signs representing its existence: the former he calls intuitive and the latter symbolic knowledge. This does not mean, he immediately adds, that in intuitive knowledge we would think without words and in symbolic knowledge with words. Instead, examples of symbolic knowledge, as Crusius conceives it, would be representing causes through their effects, effects through their causes, or things through their relations or through what they are not. Intuitive and symbolic knowledge have their own kind of distinctness, he adds, so that our knowledge of triangles is intuitively distinct, but our knowledge of the soul mostly just symbolically distinct. Although it might seem natural to favour intuitive over symbolic knowledge, Crusius insists that sometimes symbolic knowledge is the more important one: for instance, in geography it is not important whether we have experienced some lands, but it is essential to know their relations and connections with other lands.
Crusius tells the reader that the ability to recognise intuitive knowledge is based on assuming a completely correct and distinct internal sensation: as long as we are distinctly conscious that we have to to think a thing to be something in itself, our knowledge is to be regarded as intuitive. For instance, he explains, we have intuitive knowledge of triangles, since we are aware that we must think of them in a certain manner, that is, as a figure closed by three lines. If such a compulsion is not perceived, Crusius adds, but instead we observe that something else must be presupposed for thinking a thing, this knowledge is symbolic. Hence, he argues, the common concept of a curved line is symbolic, since we know that the curved line must be described in a certain manner, because it constantly deviates from its direction, but since we do not know how great the deviation is, we have to think the curve through its sensuous image.
Crusius points out that we cannot have complete intuitive knowledge of things, but must often satisfy ourselves with symbolic knowledge. Then again, he adds, we could not think at all, if we would have no intuitive knowledge of anything. Still, he concludes, even our best knowledge is at least partially undetermined, and in place of these unknown determinations we put symbolic knowledge. Knowledge of simple concepts, Crusius continues, is intuitive, but because we cannot think of simple concepts themselves without great difficulties, we are used to representing them symbolically through a concrete idea.
Crusius notes that when we abstract incomplete things and consider them in isolation, we can have intuitive knowledge of them: for instance, we have intuitive knowledge of straight-lined figures, of motion in general and of numbers determined by their own units. He emphasises that incomplete knowledge can be intuitive, since intuitiveness does not mean the same as completeness.
The more we have intuitive knowledge, Crusius suggests, the more perfect and appropriate this knowledge becomes, because it makes it easier to distinguish a concept from all others: a thing is best distinguished by what it is, since a sign might have defects that prevent it from completely corresponding to the thing it is supposed to signify. Thus, he concludes, what makes our knowledge more intuitive makes concepts more distinct for us. Then again, anything that does not make our knowledge more intuitive, like circular definitions, does not make it more distinct.
Crusius notes that some words we use are not connected to any concepts, while some concepts are found to be impossible, when we try to make them distinct. Sometimes such words and concepts are regarded as true and even sublime thoughts and confused with symbolic knowledge, which is then defined as what is left when all intuitive knowledge is taken away. Such a confusion can occur, Crusius explains, when these concepts are supposedly defined, but the definition is circular or parts of definition are again words without concepts or mere impossible concepts. Furthermore, he adds, we might not even really try to think the parts of concepts as really combined, as the words seem to indicate, but merely think them one after another, while further consideration would show that these parts contradict and cancel one another or at least nothing unsymbolic and absolute would be left, but merely relative symbols and figments of imagination. Finally, we might forget to provide an example for such concepts or words, but use them thoughtlessly or at least against the usual meaning of them.
In addition to using words without concepts and impossible concepts, Crusius finds another reason why the relation of intuitive and symbolic knowledge might be confused: it is not uncommon that we desire only intuitive knowledge in an incorrect place and are not satisfied with symbolic knowledge. For instance, he says, many atheists do not want to believe in God nor in any immaterial substance, because they cannot have intuitive knowledge of them. Indeed, Crusius insists it is an error to think that symbolic knowledge could not be certain, because certainty is not dependent on intuitiveness.
Crusius has looked at ideal distinctness from many different perspectives, but his account of characteristic distinctness is relatively short. Most important to recognise, he insists, is that characteristic distinctness differs from ideal distinctness: if characteristic distinctness is lacking, even ideally distinct concepts can be used only abstractly, but we cannot advance to application.
Since there are, Crusius thinks, two kinds of existence – physical existence that something is and moral existence that something should be – characteristic distinctness can concern either of them. In other words, if a concept is characteristically distinct according to physical existence, we can give an example of an existing object corresponding to that concept. Similarly, if a concept is characteristically distinct according to moral existence, we can always use the concept to determine, where we should, should not or are allowed to act in a certain manner.
Crusius divides characteristic distinctness into common and abstract or scholarly distinctness. A common distinction is caused by a good concrete idea, which can be both ideally and characteristically distinct. On the other hand, abstract or scholarly distinction is caused by an abstract idea, that is, criteria for the existence of something are given in abstract concepts, or in case of moral existence, abstract concepts can be used to define reasons why something should or may happen.
Crusius opposes the correct distinguishing of concepts, involving both ideal and characteristic distinctness, to three incorrect states: merely lacking distinction, false distinction and confusion. Starting with the first incorrect state, where some or all types of distinctness are lacking, Crusius emphasises that a reasonable person should not judge a thing or decide an action, if the required type of distinction is lacking, since if no judgement or decision is made, no error can occur. If all types of ideal distinctness are absent, he continues, the concept is completely obscure. Then again, if common distinctness is enough for recognising a thing and abstract distinctness is lacking, the concept is not obscure, but just unanalysed. If a concept is ideally distinct, it all depends on what type of distinction is lacking, for instance, if the concept has common distinction and lacks only the abstract distinction, while common distinction is enough for the purpose, then no error occurs, but greater perfection will not be reached.
By false distinction Crusius means supposed distinction, which is actually no distinction at all: the things that should be distinguished are not distinct, at least not in the manner indicated. Such false distinctions occur, he exemplifies, when we distinguish things through words which can actually refer to the same idea, or when we distinguish things through imagined abstractions that do not point to any real distinction in the objects. Another example Crusius provides happens when we try to use contingent properties to make stable distinctions, like when we use gradual distinctions to indicate essential differences.
Another prominent instance of false distinction, Crusius suggests, occurs when we indicate a point of distinction that does not differentiate the things we want to, even if it is based on a true property of one of the things. Thus, he explains, when someone distinguishes physical and moral necessity by saying that in the former the effect is generated according to laws of movement, while in the latter it is generated by acting through ideas, this distinction is false, because the important point of difference is actually that moral necessity leaves open the real possibility that things could go otherwise.
All the previous types of false distinction still allow the possibility that the falsely distinguished things still are really distinguished (just not in the sense indicated by the false distinction). Yet, it can also happen, Crusius clarifies, that the things are not distinguished, for instance, when one considers ideally distinguished objects, like perspectives to the same object, as objectively distinguished. Another example occurs when things that are externally connected are held as subsisting in each other, for instance, when soul is regarded as a form of body.
Crusius also suggests a few reasons why we might have false distinctions, first of them being that we humans are not attentive nor industrious enough. Indeed, he adds, many of us do not reflect ourselves nor our concepts and then get distracted by mere primary or material abstractions, hastily progressing from one to the other, without first making concrete concepts distinct and judging them appropriately. Crusius notes that with scholars this error is connected with the habit of always using the same patterns of thought without caution. Final cause he mentions is the inadequate subtility, where one does divide the concept again and again, but regards only some series of divisions necessary, disregarding others.
Confusion of concepts, in the sense Crusius means it, is in a sense opposite to false distinction: in it different things are considered similar or even same. The causes of confusion can be same as with false distinction, he explains, but we can go further, for instance, we might be deluded by common name, by which both are called, or by certain common concept belonging to both, which is still not sufficient enough for posited similarity. Thus, Crusius states, venereal love and friendly love are often thought as species of the same closest genus, but actually they are connected merely by the word “love”.
If the cause of confusion is a certain common concept belonging to the two things confused, Crusius adds, the blame for confusion might lie in that the same common concept is thought concretely, whatever it is in its kind, like when the true and false virtue are often confused, leading to people regarding every action or passion that they regard as worthy of admiration and even calling them virtue. The confusion is even easier, he notes, if the common concept is dissimilar or impure genus, for example, many believe that they remain free, even if they ascribe all their actions to a determining ground, because the opposite of their actions remains possible, confusing the ideal and real possibility. In the final example, Crusius continues, the common concept confusing two things is represented in a distinct abstract idea and lacking only in the application. Even so, he points out, the distinction in question might still not be sufficient for the search for similarity or sameness, because then one ignores a subtle, but significant circumstance forming the distinction.
In addition to using words without concepts and impossible concepts, Crusius finds another reason why the relation of intuitive and symbolic knowledge might be confused: it is not uncommon that we desire only intuitive knowledge in an incorrect place and are not satisfied with symbolic knowledge. For instance, he says, many atheists do not want to believe in God nor in any immaterial substance, because they cannot have intuitive knowledge of them. Indeed, Crusius insists it is an error to think that symbolic knowledge could not be certain, because certainty is not dependent on intuitiveness.
Crusius has looked at ideal distinctness from many different perspectives, but his account of characteristic distinctness is relatively short. Most important to recognise, he insists, is that characteristic distinctness differs from ideal distinctness: if characteristic distinctness is lacking, even ideally distinct concepts can be used only abstractly, but we cannot advance to application.
Since there are, Crusius thinks, two kinds of existence – physical existence that something is and moral existence that something should be – characteristic distinctness can concern either of them. In other words, if a concept is characteristically distinct according to physical existence, we can give an example of an existing object corresponding to that concept. Similarly, if a concept is characteristically distinct according to moral existence, we can always use the concept to determine, where we should, should not or are allowed to act in a certain manner.
Crusius divides characteristic distinctness into common and abstract or scholarly distinctness. A common distinction is caused by a good concrete idea, which can be both ideally and characteristically distinct. On the other hand, abstract or scholarly distinction is caused by an abstract idea, that is, criteria for the existence of something are given in abstract concepts, or in case of moral existence, abstract concepts can be used to define reasons why something should or may happen.
Crusius opposes the correct distinguishing of concepts, involving both ideal and characteristic distinctness, to three incorrect states: merely lacking distinction, false distinction and confusion. Starting with the first incorrect state, where some or all types of distinctness are lacking, Crusius emphasises that a reasonable person should not judge a thing or decide an action, if the required type of distinction is lacking, since if no judgement or decision is made, no error can occur. If all types of ideal distinctness are absent, he continues, the concept is completely obscure. Then again, if common distinctness is enough for recognising a thing and abstract distinctness is lacking, the concept is not obscure, but just unanalysed. If a concept is ideally distinct, it all depends on what type of distinction is lacking, for instance, if the concept has common distinction and lacks only the abstract distinction, while common distinction is enough for the purpose, then no error occurs, but greater perfection will not be reached.
By false distinction Crusius means supposed distinction, which is actually no distinction at all: the things that should be distinguished are not distinct, at least not in the manner indicated. Such false distinctions occur, he exemplifies, when we distinguish things through words which can actually refer to the same idea, or when we distinguish things through imagined abstractions that do not point to any real distinction in the objects. Another example Crusius provides happens when we try to use contingent properties to make stable distinctions, like when we use gradual distinctions to indicate essential differences.
Another prominent instance of false distinction, Crusius suggests, occurs when we indicate a point of distinction that does not differentiate the things we want to, even if it is based on a true property of one of the things. Thus, he explains, when someone distinguishes physical and moral necessity by saying that in the former the effect is generated according to laws of movement, while in the latter it is generated by acting through ideas, this distinction is false, because the important point of difference is actually that moral necessity leaves open the real possibility that things could go otherwise.
All the previous types of false distinction still allow the possibility that the falsely distinguished things still are really distinguished (just not in the sense indicated by the false distinction). Yet, it can also happen, Crusius clarifies, that the things are not distinguished, for instance, when one considers ideally distinguished objects, like perspectives to the same object, as objectively distinguished. Another example occurs when things that are externally connected are held as subsisting in each other, for instance, when soul is regarded as a form of body.
Crusius also suggests a few reasons why we might have false distinctions, first of them being that we humans are not attentive nor industrious enough. Indeed, he adds, many of us do not reflect ourselves nor our concepts and then get distracted by mere primary or material abstractions, hastily progressing from one to the other, without first making concrete concepts distinct and judging them appropriately. Crusius notes that with scholars this error is connected with the habit of always using the same patterns of thought without caution. Final cause he mentions is the inadequate subtility, where one does divide the concept again and again, but regards only some series of divisions necessary, disregarding others.
Confusion of concepts, in the sense Crusius means it, is in a sense opposite to false distinction: in it different things are considered similar or even same. The causes of confusion can be same as with false distinction, he explains, but we can go further, for instance, we might be deluded by common name, by which both are called, or by certain common concept belonging to both, which is still not sufficient enough for posited similarity. Thus, Crusius states, venereal love and friendly love are often thought as species of the same closest genus, but actually they are connected merely by the word “love”.
If the cause of confusion is a certain common concept belonging to the two things confused, Crusius adds, the blame for confusion might lie in that the same common concept is thought concretely, whatever it is in its kind, like when the true and false virtue are often confused, leading to people regarding every action or passion that they regard as worthy of admiration and even calling them virtue. The confusion is even easier, he notes, if the common concept is dissimilar or impure genus, for example, many believe that they remain free, even if they ascribe all their actions to a determining ground, because the opposite of their actions remains possible, confusing the ideal and real possibility. In the final example, Crusius continues, the common concept confusing two things is represented in a distinct abstract idea and lacking only in the application. Even so, he points out, the distinction in question might still not be sufficient for the search for similarity or sameness, because then one ignores a subtle, but significant circumstance forming the distinction.
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