speak properly: and let me add, that unless a
man's words excite the same ideas in the hearer which he makes them
stand for in speaking, he does not speak intelligibly. But whatever be
the consequence of any man's using of words differently, either from
their general meaning, or the particular sense of the person to whom
he addresses them; this is certain, their signification, in his use of
them, is limited to his ideas, and they can be signs of nothing else.

CHAPTER III.

OF GENERAL TERMS.

1. The greatest Part of Words are general terms.

All things that exist being particulars, it may perhaps be thought
reasonable that words, which ought to be conformed to things, should
be so too,--I mean in their signification: but yet we find quite the
contrary. The far greatest part of words that make all languages are
general terms: which has not been the effect of neglect or chance, but
of reason and necessity.

2. That every particular Thing should have a Name for itself is
impossible.

First, It is impossible that every particular thing should have a
distinct peculiar name. For, the signification and use of words
depending on that connexion which the mind makes between its ideas and
the sounds it uses as signs of them, it is necessary, in the application
of names to things, that the mind should have distinct ideas of the
things, and retain also the particular name that belongs to every one,
with its peculiar appropriation to that idea. But it is beyond the
power of human capacity to frame and retain distinct ideas of all the
particular things we meet with: every bird and beast men saw; every tree
and plant that affected the senses, could not find a place in the
most capacious understanding. If it be looked on as an instance of a
prodigious memory, that some generals have been able to call every
soldier in their army by his proper name, we may easily find a reason
why men have never attempted to give names to each sheep in their flock,
or crow that flies over their heads; much less to call every leaf of
plants, or grain of sand that came in their way, by a peculiar name.

3. And would be useless, if it were possible.

Secondly, If it were possible, it would yet be useless; because it would
not serve to the chief end of language. Men would in vain heap up names
of particular things, that would not serve them to communicate their
thoughts. Men learn names, and use them in talk with others, only that
t