Reading Comprehension

Choose the word most similar in meaning to the word 'intellectual', as used in the passage.

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and select the most suitable answer according to the underlined word per corresponding number in the passage.

Three years ago, a little-known craftsman from the dusty backstreets of southern China's Guangzhou city caught the world of classical musicians off guard. Zhu Ming-Jiang was awarded a gold medal from the prestigious Violin Society of America - its highest accolade - for an instrument handcrafted in the tradition of Italian masters of the 17th century, the great age of violinmakers. Seasoned music critics were aghast. China was one of the world’s biggest exporters of violins, but its instruments were notorious for their inferiority and sold by the truckload primarily because they were cheap. That general picture won't change overnight, since Zhu makes just 10 violins a year, but at least China can now lay claim to producing a contemporary equivalent to the famed Stradivarius.
Zhu's life has been full of surprising turns. The second son of two accountants, Zhu was forced as a teenager to abandon his education and like tens of thousands of other intellectual young Chinese during the 1960s and 70s, was sent to the countryside to be "re-educated" by tillers. "I wanted to be a carpenter, even a painter", says Zhu. "But I was labouring in fields of sugarcane and looking for a way out”. Zhu seized his chance to escape the rural backwaters of Panyu County just south of Guangzhou two years later in 1976 when China set up the Guangzhou Musical Instruments School. He was one of the 25 students chosen nationwide because he had shown promise as a sculptor of wood, an essential skill in the delicate crafting of musical instruments.
Zhu rapidly improved his skills and by 1986 he had graduated from the school and was working for the Guangzhou Musical Instruments Research Institute. Zhu's craft gained international recognition because senior Communist Party cadres often entered his violins in international competitions. They also flitted abroad to collect the prizes giving him little opportunity to enjoy the acclaim. By that time Zhu was secretly making violins at home because he wanted to use his own name in competitions and he felt that many of the violins produced by the institute were of poor quality.

Choose the word most similar in meaning to the word 'tillers', as used in the passage.

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and select the most suitable answer according to the underlined word per corresponding number in the passage.

Three years ago, a little-known craftsman from the dusty backstreets of southern China's Guangzhou city caught the world of classical musicians off guard. Zhu Ming-Jiang was awarded a gold medal from the prestigious Violin Society of America - its highest accolade - for an instrument handcrafted in the tradition of Italian masters of the 17th century, the great age of violinmakers. Seasoned music critics were aghast. China was one of the world’s biggest exporters of violins, but its instruments were notorious for their inferiority and sold by the truckload primarily because they were cheap. That general picture won't change overnight, since Zhu makes just 10 violins a year, but at least China can now lay claim to producing a contemporary equivalent to the famed Stradivarius.
Zhu's life has been full of surprising turns. The second son of two accountants, Zhu was forced as a teenager to abandon his education and like tens of thousands of other intellectual young Chinese during the 1960s and 70s, was sent to the countryside to be "re-educated" by tillers. "I wanted to be a carpenter, even a painter", says Zhu. "But I was labouring in fields of sugarcane and looking for a way out”. Zhu seized his chance to escape the rural backwaters of Panyu County just south of Guangzhou two years later in 1976 when China set up the Guangzhou Musical Instruments School. He was one of the 25 students chosen nationwide because he had shown promise as a sculptor of wood, an essential skill in the delicate crafting of musical instruments.
Zhu rapidly improved his skills and by 1986 he had graduated from the school and was working for the Guangzhou Musical Instruments Research Institute. Zhu's craft gained international recognition because senior Communist Party cadres often entered his violins in international competitions. They also flitted abroad to collect the prizes giving him little opportunity to enjoy the acclaim. By that time Zhu was secretly making violins at home because he wanted to use his own name in competitions and he felt that many of the violins produced by the institute were of poor quality.

Choose the word most similar in meaning to the word 'reluctantly', as used in the passage.

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and select the most suitable answer according to the underlined word per corresponding number in the passage.

Three years ago, a little-known craftsman from the dusty backstreets of southern China's Guangzhou city caught the world of classical musicians off guard. Zhu Ming-Jiang was awarded a gold medal from the prestigious Violin Society of America - its highest accolade - for an instrument handcrafted in the tradition of Italian masters of the 17th century, the great age of violinmakers. Seasoned music critics were aghast. China was one of the world’s biggest exporters of violins, but its instruments were notorious for their inferiority and sold by the truckload primarily because they were cheap. That general picture won't change overnight, since Zhu makes just 10 violins a year, but at least China can now lay claim to producing a contemporary equivalent to the famed Stradivarius.
Zhu's life has been full of surprising turns. The second son of two accountants, Zhu was forced as a teenager to abandon his education and like tens of thousands of other intellectual young Chinese during the 1960s and 70s, was sent to the countryside to be "re-educated" by tillers. "I wanted to be a carpenter, even a painter", says Zhu. "But I was labouring in fields of sugarcane and looking for a way out”. Zhu seized his chance to escape the rural backwaters of Panyu County just south of Guangzhou two years later in 1976 when China set up the Guangzhou Musical Instruments School. He was one of the 25 students chosen nationwide because he had shown promise as a sculptor of wood, an essential skill in the delicate crafting of musical instruments.
Zhu rapidly improved his skills and by 1986 he had graduated from the school and was working for the Guangzhou Musical Instruments Research Institute. Zhu's craft gained international recognition because senior Communist Party cadres often entered his violins in international competitions. They also flitted abroad to collect the prizes giving him little opportunity to enjoy the acclaim. By that time Zhu was secretly making violins at home because he wanted to use his own name in competitions and he felt that many of the violins produced by the institute were of poor quality.

Choose the word most similar in meaning to the word 'aghast', as used in the passage.

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and select the most suitable answer according to the underlined word per corresponding number in the passage.

Three years ago, a little-known craftsman from the dusty backstreets of southern China's Guangzhou city caught the world of classical musicians off guard. Zhu Ming-Jiang was awarded a gold medal from the prestigious Violin Society of America - its highest accolade - for an instrument handcrafted in the tradition of Italian masters of the 17th century, the great age of violinmakers. Seasoned music critics were aghast. China was one of the world’s biggest exporters of violins, but its instruments were notorious for their inferiority and sold by the truckload primarily because they were cheap. That general picture won't change overnight, since Zhu makes just 10 violins a year, but at least China can now lay claim to producing a contemporary equivalent to the famed Stradivarius.
Zhu's life has been full of surprising turns. The second son of two accountants, Zhu was forced as a teenager to abandon his education and like tens of thousands of other intellectual young Chinese during the 1960s and 70s, was sent to the countryside to be "re-educated" by tillers. "I wanted to be a carpenter, even a painter", says Zhu. "But I was labouring in fields of sugarcane and looking for a way out”. Zhu seized his chance to escape the rural backwaters of Panyu County just south of Guangzhou two years later in 1976 when China set up the Guangzhou Musical Instruments School. He was one of the 25 students chosen nationwide because he had shown promise as a sculptor of wood, an essential skill in the delicate crafting of musical instruments.
Zhu rapidly improved his skills and by 1986 he had graduated from the school and was working for the Guangzhou Musical Instruments Research Institute. Zhu's craft gained international recognition because senior Communist Party cadres often entered his violins in international competitions. They also flitted abroad to collect the prizes giving him little opportunity to enjoy the acclaim. By that time Zhu was secretly making violins at home because he wanted to use his own name in competitions and he felt that many of the violins produced by the institute were of poor quality.

Choose the word most similar in meaning to the word 'cadres', as used in the passage.

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and select the most suitable answer according to the underlined word per corresponding number in the passage.

Three years ago, a little-known craftsman from the dusty backstreets of southern China's Guangzhou city caught the world of classical musicians off guard. Zhu Ming-Jiang was awarded a gold medal from the prestigious Violin Society of America - its highest accolade - for an instrument handcrafted in the tradition of Italian masters of the 17th century, the great age of violinmakers. Seasoned music critics were aghast. China was one of the world’s biggest exporters of violins, but its instruments were notorious for their inferiority and sold by the truckload primarily because they were cheap. That general picture won't change overnight, since Zhu makes just 10 violins a year, but at least China can now lay claim to producing a contemporary equivalent to the famed Stradivarius.
Zhu's life has been full of surprising turns. The second son of two accountants, Zhu was forced as a teenager to abandon his education and like tens of thousands of other intellectual young Chinese during the 1960s and 70s, was sent to the countryside to be "re-educated" by tillers. "I wanted to be a carpenter, even a painter", says Zhu. "But I was labouring in fields of sugarcane and looking for a way out”. Zhu seized his chance to escape the rural backwaters of Panyu County just south of Guangzhou two years later in 1976 when China set up the Guangzhou Musical Instruments School. He was one of the 25 students chosen nationwide because he had shown promise as a sculptor of wood, an essential skill in the delicate crafting of musical instruments.
Zhu rapidly improved his skills and by 1986 he had graduated from the school and was working for the Guangzhou Musical Instruments Research Institute. Zhu's craft gained international recognition because senior Communist Party cadres often entered his violins in international competitions. They also flitted abroad to collect the prizes giving him little opportunity to enjoy the acclaim. By that time Zhu was secretly making violins at home because he wanted to use his own name in competitions and he felt that many of the violins produced by the institute were of poor quality.

Choose the word most similar in meaning to the word 'flitted', as used in the passage.

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and select the most suitable answer according to the underlined word per corresponding number in the passage.

Three years ago, a little-known craftsman from the dusty backstreets of southern China's Guangzhou city caught the world of classical musicians off guard. Zhu Ming-Jiang was awarded a gold medal from the prestigious Violin Society of America - its highest accolade - for an instrument handcrafted in the tradition of Italian masters of the 17th century, the great age of violinmakers. Seasoned music critics were aghast. China was one of the world’s biggest exporters of violins, but its instruments were notorious for their inferiority and sold by the truckload primarily because they were cheap. That general picture won't change overnight, since Zhu makes just 10 violins a year, but at least China can now lay claim to producing a contemporary equivalent to the famed Stradivarius.
Zhu's life has been full of surprising turns. The second son of two accountants, Zhu was forced as a teenager to abandon his education and like tens of thousands of other intellectual young Chinese during the 1960s and 70s, was sent to the countryside to be "re-educated" by tillers. "I wanted to be a carpenter, even a painter", says Zhu. "But I was labouring in fields of sugarcane and looking for a way out”. Zhu seized his chance to escape the rural backwaters of Panyu County just south of Guangzhou two years later in 1976 when China set up the Guangzhou Musical Instruments School. He was one of the 25 students chosen nationwide because he had shown promise as a sculptor of wood, an essential skill in the delicate crafting of musical instruments.
Zhu rapidly improved his skills and by 1986 he had graduated from the school and was working for the Guangzhou Musical Instruments Research Institute. Zhu's craft gained international recognition because senior Communist Party cadres often entered his violins in international competitions. They also flitted abroad to collect the prizes giving him little opportunity to enjoy the acclaim. By that time Zhu was secretly making violins at home because he wanted to use his own name in competitions and he felt that many of the violins produced by the institute were of poor quality.

One of the factors that make the critic of one age different from another is the slavish attitude of the critics. Is it the correct evaluation and does the author base his work on this evaluation?

(I)It is the milieu in which a writer or a critic is reared or nurtured that determines the attitude and orientation of a writer/critic. This factor makes the work of one age different from the work of another age.

(II) On this, the writer gives an analytical report. Because writers are products of their time, they follow the attitude and standards of their time. This is the sum and substance of what the writer is aiming at.

(III) The author does not talk of the slavish attitude of a writer or a critic. He speaks of a writer being a product of his age, slave to the period to which he belonged. Not the correct evaluation.

Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage:

Literature—poetry, drama, fiction—can be enjoyed in two ways: haphazardly as a lay man enjoys it, and methodically as a trained man does. In the one case the impression of its worth is vague, even confused; in the other it is fully accounted for. It is this later method of enjoying that is called criticism. A critic is an ideal reader. Having ‘travelled much in the realm of gold’, he brings to bear a trained judgement on whatever he reads. To him no work of art is good or bad, enjoyable or unenjoyable, meaningful or meaningless, unless he has subjected it to a thorough examination. Criticism is, therefore, born of questioning; it never takes a writer or his work on trust. Where a work is held to be divinely inspired or revealed, as in the case of scriptures, there can be no criticism. For orthodox opinion will not permit a free discussion of it. It is the word of God. Hence it is that for long ages after the establishment of Christianity there was hardly any critical literature on the Bible. It was only when the Renaissance encouraged interrogation and free inquiry that it began to be examined critically. Today nothing is sacrosanct to criticism. It subjects everything to the closest scrutiny. Its approach is that of science—a disinterested application to its subject to understand and interpret it fully. For criticism therefore, as for science, to flourish, intellectual freedom is necessary. It requires an atmosphere in which questioning and inquiry are freely allowed.
It is, however, conditioned by many factors, in particular by the trend of the age and the attitude of the critic. Both these tend to limit the critic’s freedom as indeed they do that of the writer himself. One is ever a slave to one’s times and mental make-up. It is these limitations that make the critical approach of one age or author different from that of another and impart to it is distinctive character. Generally, each age in literary history will be found to have its own critical standards, and each critic his own individual approach. One will look for morality in literature, another for aesthetic pleasure, a third for both. Or, one will advocate conformity to the rules of the Greek and Latin classics, another a reasonable deviation from them, a third a complete freedom of action. And so on. There are, thus, no fixed principles of Criticism to be applied indiscriminately to the works of all ages and writers. What this oft-used phrase actually signifies is the contribution each age has made to critical thought and the course it has followed in so doing. Often the critical cannons of one age have been discarded in another and often too, a subsequent age has revived them. So the principles of criticism are nothing more than the various interpretations of literature or literary activity, advanced from time to time. They are sometimes similar, sometimes dissimilar, and sometimes even contradictory.

The writer speaks of an approach 'of science' and 'disinterested application' in the same breath. Why does he do that?

Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage:

Literature—poetry, drama, fiction—can be enjoyed in two ways: haphazardly as a lay man enjoys it, and methodically as a trained man does. In the one case the impression of its worth is vague, even confused; in the other it is fully accounted for. It is this later method of enjoying that is called criticism. A critic is an ideal reader. Having ‘travelled much in the realm of gold’, he brings to bear a trained judgement on whatever he reads. To him no work of art is good or bad, enjoyable or unenjoyable, meaningful or meaningless, unless he has subjected it to a thorough examination. Criticism is, therefore, born of questioning; it never takes a writer or his work on trust. Where a work is held to be divinely inspired or revealed, as in the case of scriptures, there can be no criticism. For orthodox opinion will not permit a free discussion of it. It is the word of God. Hence it is that for long ages after the establishment of Christianity there was hardly any critical literature on the Bible. It was only when the Renaissance encouraged interrogation and free inquiry that it began to be examined critically. Today nothing is sacrosanct to criticism. It subjects everything to the closest scrutiny. Its approach is that of science—a disinterested application to its subject to understand and interpret it fully. For criticism therefore, as for science, to flourish, intellectual freedom is necessary. It requires an atmosphere in which questioning and inquiry are freely allowed.
It is, however, conditioned by many factors, in particular by the trend of the age and the attitude of the critic. Both these tend to limit the critic’s freedom as indeed they do that of the writer himself. One is ever a slave to one’s times and mental make-up. It is these limitations that make the critical approach of one age or author different from that of another and impart to it is distinctive character. Generally, each age in literary history will be found to have its own critical standards, and each critic his own individual approach. One will look for morality in literature, another for aesthetic pleasure, a third for both. Or, one will advocate conformity to the rules of the Greek and Latin classics, another a reasonable deviation from them, a third a complete freedom of action. And so on. There are, thus, no fixed principles of Criticism to be applied indiscriminately to the works of all ages and writers. What this oft-used phrase actually signifies is the contribution each age has made to critical thought and the course it has followed in so doing. Often the critical cannons of one age have been discarded in another and often too, a subsequent age has revived them. So the principles of criticism are nothing more than the various interpretations of literature or literary activity, advanced from time to time. They are sometimes similar, sometimes dissimilar, and sometimes even contradictory.

In the context of the passage, what is the significance of the statement 'having travelled much in the realm of gold'?

Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage:

Literature—poetry, drama, fiction—can be enjoyed in two ways: haphazardly as a lay man enjoys it, and methodically as a trained man does. In the one case the impression of its worth is vague, even confused; in the other it is fully accounted for. It is this later method of enjoying that is called criticism. A critic is an ideal reader. Having ‘travelled much in the realm of gold’, he brings to bear a trained judgement on whatever he reads. To him no work of art is good or bad, enjoyable or unenjoyable, meaningful or meaningless, unless he has subjected it to a thorough examination. Criticism is, therefore, born of questioning; it never takes a writer or his work on trust. Where a work is held to be divinely inspired or revealed, as in the case of scriptures, there can be no criticism. For orthodox opinion will not permit a free discussion of it. It is the word of God. Hence it is that for long ages after the establishment of Christianity there was hardly any critical literature on the Bible. It was only when the Renaissance encouraged interrogation and free inquiry that it began to be examined critically. Today nothing is sacrosanct to criticism. It subjects everything to the closest scrutiny. Its approach is that of science—a disinterested application to its subject to understand and interpret it fully. For criticism therefore, as for science, to flourish, intellectual freedom is necessary. It requires an atmosphere in which questioning and inquiry are freely allowed.
It is, however, conditioned by many factors, in particular by the trend of the age and the attitude of the critic. Both these tend to limit the critic’s freedom as indeed they do that of the writer himself. One is ever a slave to one’s times and mental make-up. It is these limitations that make the critical approach of one age or author different from that of another and impart to it is distinctive character. Generally, each age in literary history will be found to have its own critical standards, and each critic his own individual approach. One will look for morality in literature, another for aesthetic pleasure, a third for both. Or, one will advocate conformity to the rules of the Greek and Latin classics, another a reasonable deviation from them, a third a complete freedom of action. And so on. There are, thus, no fixed principles of Criticism to be applied indiscriminately to the works of all ages and writers. What this oft-used phrase actually signifies is the contribution each age has made to critical thought and the course it has followed in so doing. Often the critical cannons of one age have been discarded in another and often too, a subsequent age has revived them. So the principles of criticism are nothing more than the various interpretations of literature or literary activity, advanced from time to time. They are sometimes similar, sometimes dissimilar, and sometimes even contradictory.

'Cloning', according to the writer, would be one of the greatest milestones of human intellectual development because

Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage:

Like the geography of the planet, the human body has, until now, represented a fixed point in human experience, a ‘given’. Today we are fast approaching the day when the body can no longer be regarded as fixed. Man will be able, within a reasonably short period, to redesign not merely individual bodies, but the entire human race.
In 1962 Drs. J.D. Watson and F.H.C. Crick received the Nobel Prize for describing the DNA molecules. Since then advances in genetics have come tripping over one another at a rapid pace. Molecular biology is now about to explode from the laboratories. New genetic knowledge will permit us to tinker with human heredity and manipulate the genes to create altogether new versions of man.
One of the more fantastic possibilities is that man will be able to make biological carbon copies of himself. Through a process called ‘cloning’ it will be possible to grow from the nucleus of an adult cell a new organism that has the same genetic characteristics of the person contributing the cell nucleus. The resultant human ‘copy’ would start life with a genetic endowment identical to that of the donor, although cultural differences might thereafter alter the personality or physical development of the clone.
Cloning will make it possible for people to see themselves born anew, to fill the world with twins of themselves. Cloning would, among other things, provide us with solid empirical evidence to help us resolve, once and for all, the ancient controversy over ‘nature v nurture’ or ‘heredity v environment’. The solution of this problem, through the determination of the role played by each, would be one of the greatest milestones of human intellectual development. Whole libraries of philosophical speculation could, by a single stroke, be rendered irrelevant. An answer to this question would open the way for speedy, qualitative advances in psychology, moral philosophy and a dozen other fields.
But cloning could also create undreamed of complications for the race. There is a certain charm to the idea of Albert Einstein bequeathing copies of himself to posterity. But what of Adolf Hitler? Should there be laws to regulate cloning? Nobel Laureate Joshua Lederberg, a scientist who takes his social responsibility very seriously, believes it conceivable that those most likely to replicate themselves will be those who are most narcissistic, and that the clones they produce will also be narcissists.
Even if narcissism, however, is culturally rather than biologically transmitted, there are other eerie difficulties. Thus Lederberg raises a question as to whether human cloning, if permitted, might not ‘go critical.’ ‘I use that phrase,’ he told me, ‘in almost exactly the same sense that is involved in nuclear energy. It will go critical if there is a sufficient positive advantage to doing so....This has to do with whether the efficiency of communication, particularly along educational lines, is increased as between identical genotypes or not. The similarity of neurological hardware might make it easier for identical copies to transmit technical and other insights from one generation to the next.’

What, according to the passage, will enable man 'to redesign not merely individual bodies, but the entire human race'? (a) DNA Molecules (b) Advances in genetics (c) Molecular biology (d) New genetic knowledge (e) Biological carbon copies

Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage:

Like the geography of the planet, the human body has, until now, represented a fixed point in human experience, a ‘given’. Today we are fast approaching the day when the body can no longer be regarded as fixed. Man will be able, within a reasonably short period, to redesign not merely individual bodies, but the entire human race.
In 1962 Drs. J.D. Watson and F.H.C. Crick received the Nobel Prize for describing the DNA molecules. Since then advances in genetics have come tripping over one another at a rapid pace. Molecular biology is now about to explode from the laboratories. New genetic knowledge will permit us to tinker with human heredity and manipulate the genes to create altogether new versions of man.
One of the more fantastic possibilities is that man will be able to make biological carbon copies of himself. Through a process called ‘cloning’ it will be possible to grow from the nucleus of an adult cell a new organism that has the same genetic characteristics of the person contributing the cell nucleus. The resultant human ‘copy’ would start life with a genetic endowment identical to that of the donor, although cultural differences might thereafter alter the personality or physical development of the clone.
Cloning will make it possible for people to see themselves born anew, to fill the world with twins of themselves. Cloning would, among other things, provide us with solid empirical evidence to help us resolve, once and for all, the ancient controversy over ‘nature v nurture’ or ‘heredity v environment’. The solution of this problem, through the determination of the role played by each, would be one of the greatest milestones of human intellectual development. Whole libraries of philosophical speculation could, by a single stroke, be rendered irrelevant. An answer to this question would open the way for speedy, qualitative advances in psychology, moral philosophy and a dozen other fields.
But cloning could also create undreamed of complications for the race. There is a certain charm to the idea of Albert Einstein bequeathing copies of himself to posterity. But what of Adolf Hitler? Should there be laws to regulate cloning? Nobel Laureate Joshua Lederberg, a scientist who takes his social responsibility very seriously, believes it conceivable that those most likely to replicate themselves will be those who are most narcissistic, and that the clones they produce will also be narcissists.
Even if narcissism, however, is culturally rather than biologically transmitted, there are other eerie difficulties. Thus Lederberg raises a question as to whether human cloning, if permitted, might not ‘go critical.’ ‘I use that phrase,’ he told me, ‘in almost exactly the same sense that is involved in nuclear energy. It will go critical if there is a sufficient positive advantage to doing so....This has to do with whether the efficiency of communication, particularly along educational lines, is increased as between identical genotypes or not. The similarity of neurological hardware might make it easier for identical copies to transmit technical and other insights from one generation to the next.’

Besides the problems occasioned by narcissism, the writer talks of other 'eerie difficulties'. One of them could unmistakably be

Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage:

Like the geography of the planet, the human body has, until now, represented a fixed point in human experience, a ‘given’. Today we are fast approaching the day when the body can no longer be regarded as fixed. Man will be able, within a reasonably short period, to redesign not merely individual bodies, but the entire human race.
In 1962 Drs. J.D. Watson and F.H.C. Crick received the Nobel Prize for describing the DNA molecules. Since then advances in genetics have come tripping over one another at a rapid pace. Molecular biology is now about to explode from the laboratories. New genetic knowledge will permit us to tinker with human heredity and manipulate the genes to create altogether new versions of man.
One of the more fantastic possibilities is that man will be able to make biological carbon copies of himself. Through a process called ‘cloning’ it will be possible to grow from the nucleus of an adult cell a new organism that has the same genetic characteristics of the person contributing the cell nucleus. The resultant human ‘copy’ would start life with a genetic endowment identical to that of the donor, although cultural differences might thereafter alter the personality or physical development of the clone.
Cloning will make it possible for people to see themselves born anew, to fill the world with twins of themselves. Cloning would, among other things, provide us with solid empirical evidence to help us resolve, once and for all, the ancient controversy over ‘nature v nurture’ or ‘heredity v environment’. The solution of this problem, through the determination of the role played by each, would be one of the greatest milestones of human intellectual development. Whole libraries of philosophical speculation could, by a single stroke, be rendered irrelevant. An answer to this question would open the way for speedy, qualitative advances in psychology, moral philosophy and a dozen other fields.
But cloning could also create undreamed of complications for the race. There is a certain charm to the idea of Albert Einstein bequeathing copies of himself to posterity. But what of Adolf Hitler? Should there be laws to regulate cloning? Nobel Laureate Joshua Lederberg, a scientist who takes his social responsibility very seriously, believes it conceivable that those most likely to replicate themselves will be those who are most narcissistic, and that the clones they produce will also be narcissists.
Even if narcissism, however, is culturally rather than biologically transmitted, there are other eerie difficulties. Thus Lederberg raises a question as to whether human cloning, if permitted, might not ‘go critical.’ ‘I use that phrase,’ he told me, ‘in almost exactly the same sense that is involved in nuclear energy. It will go critical if there is a sufficient positive advantage to doing so....This has to do with whether the efficiency of communication, particularly along educational lines, is increased as between identical genotypes or not. The similarity of neurological hardware might make it easier for identical copies to transmit technical and other insights from one generation to the next.’

This passage can well be described as

Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage:

Literature—poetry, drama, fiction—can be enjoyed in two ways: haphazardly as a lay man enjoys it, and methodically as a trained man does. In the one case the impression of its worth is vague, even confused; in the other it is fully accounted for. It is this later method of enjoying that is called criticism. A critic is an ideal reader. Having ‘travelled much in the realm of gold’, he brings to bear a trained judgement on whatever he reads. To him no work of art is good or bad, enjoyable or unenjoyable, meaningful or meaningless, unless he has subjected it to a thorough examination. Criticism is, therefore, born of questioning; it never takes a writer or his work on trust. Where a work is held to be divinely inspired or revealed, as in the case of scriptures, there can be no criticism. For orthodox opinion will not permit a free discussion of it. It is the word of God. Hence it is that for long ages after the establishment of Christianity there was hardly any critical literature on the Bible. It was only when the Renaissance encouraged interrogation and free inquiry that it began to be examined critically. Today nothing is sacrosanct to criticism. It subjects everything to the closest scrutiny. Its approach is that of science—a disinterested application to its subject to understand and interpret it fully. For criticism therefore, as for science, to flourish, intellectual freedom is necessary. It requires an atmosphere in which questioning and inquiry are freely allowed.
It is, however, conditioned by many factors, in particular by the trend of the age and the attitude of the critic. Both these tend to limit the critic’s freedom as indeed they do that of the writer himself. One is ever a slave to one’s times and mental make-up. It is these limitations that make the critical approach of one age or author different from that of another and impart to it is distinctive character. Generally, each age in literary history will be found to have its own critical standards, and each critic his own individual approach. One will look for morality in literature, another for aesthetic pleasure, a third for both. Or, one will advocate conformity to the rules of the Greek and Latin classics, another a reasonable deviation from them, a third a complete freedom of action. And so on. There are, thus, no fixed principles of Criticism to be applied indiscriminately to the works of all ages and writers. What this oft-used phrase actually signifies is the contribution each age has made to critical thought and the course it has followed in so doing. Often the critical cannons of one age have been discarded in another and often too, a subsequent age has revived them. So the principles of criticism are nothing more than the various interpretations of literature or literary activity, advanced from time to time. They are sometimes similar, sometimes dissimilar, and sometimes even contradictory.

One of the conclusions that can be drawn from the passage is that the writer is firm in his conviction that

Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage:

Like the geography of the planet, the human body has, until now, represented a fixed point in human experience, a ‘given’. Today we are fast approaching the day when the body can no longer be regarded as fixed. Man will be able, within a reasonably short period, to redesign not merely individual bodies, but the entire human race.
In 1962 Drs. J.D. Watson and F.H.C. Crick received the Nobel Prize for describing the DNA molecules. Since then advances in genetics have come tripping over one another at a rapid pace. Molecular biology is now about to explode from the laboratories. New genetic knowledge will permit us to tinker with human heredity and manipulate the genes to create altogether new versions of man.
One of the more fantastic possibilities is that man will be able to make biological carbon copies of himself. Through a process called ‘cloning’ it will be possible to grow from the nucleus of an adult cell a new organism that has the same genetic characteristics of the person contributing the cell nucleus. The resultant human ‘copy’ would start life with a genetic endowment identical to that of the donor, although cultural differences might thereafter alter the personality or physical development of the clone.
Cloning will make it possible for people to see themselves born anew, to fill the world with twins of themselves. Cloning would, among other things, provide us with solid empirical evidence to help us resolve, once and for all, the ancient controversy over ‘nature v nurture’ or ‘heredity v environment’. The solution of this problem, through the determination of the role played by each, would be one of the greatest milestones of human intellectual development. Whole libraries of philosophical speculation could, by a single stroke, be rendered irrelevant. An answer to this question would open the way for speedy, qualitative advances in psychology, moral philosophy and a dozen other fields.
But cloning could also create undreamed of complications for the race. There is a certain charm to the idea of Albert Einstein bequeathing copies of himself to posterity. But what of Adolf Hitler? Should there be laws to regulate cloning? Nobel Laureate Joshua Lederberg, a scientist who takes his social responsibility very seriously, believes it conceivable that those most likely to replicate themselves will be those who are most narcissistic, and that the clones they produce will also be narcissists.
Even if narcissism, however, is culturally rather than biologically transmitted, there are other eerie difficulties. Thus Lederberg raises a question as to whether human cloning, if permitted, might not ‘go critical.’ ‘I use that phrase,’ he told me, ‘in almost exactly the same sense that is involved in nuclear energy. It will go critical if there is a sufficient positive advantage to doing so....This has to do with whether the efficiency of communication, particularly along educational lines, is increased as between identical genotypes or not. The similarity of neurological hardware might make it easier for identical copies to transmit technical and other insights from one generation to the next.’

Which of the following is not true about the passage?

Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage:

Although no one ever shows the other list, it is the other list that I have always been more inquisitive about. Why the other list is generally kept from public viewing is understandable, and why we must show greater inquisitiveness about the other list is equally understandable. You can never have a complete picture of things unless you have the other list before you and not many would want to give you the complete picture as it tends to giving themselves up. No one likes that.
But what is the other list anyway?  We have heard about the Schindler’s List. Although the list I have in my mind does not have anything to do with this List, this List too has something common in with the other list. This List too was neither shown, nor was seen until one stumbled upon it and made it public. Perhaps, no one had asked it to be shown, ostensibly because no one knew about its existence. Even if one were to ask for it, no one would have volunteered to show it for the same reason—it would have exposed him. No one liked to be exposed. Not even those who lived in the distant past and had not known of the present day machinations and manipulations. They also did not show it, rather pleaded ignorance about the existence of such a list. But the list always existed despite indications to the contrary. An astute politician would never flaunt such a list. Therefore getting to see the other list is not easy. But what is the other list in the first place and why am I making so much ado about it?
Well, the other list is the most important list of all lists that we know of. It is that list which can make or unmake many things, many dispensations and many regimes. It can bring about an earthquake; it can cause turmoil of far reaching consequences.
“It is the other list that I want to see, dear me! Where is the other list?” That is how the inquisitive man had asked him. Centuries ago, when boats were the only mode of conveyance for going from one place to another, this inquisitive man was approached by boatmen promising to ferry him across, flaunting their lists of those successfully ferried across to make fortune. Each boatman was eager to draw his attention, to enlist him as a customer. Each one of them had just one list to flaunt, asking him to see for himself and decide whether he would like to be ferried by this or that boatman. No one had the other list, the inquisitive man was sure. No one had ever asked for the other list. No one had therefore compiled the other list.
“What is that other list?”
“Listing the names of those who took your boat and perished!?” the inquisitive man demanded. Obviously, the list was not supplied. No one had such a list and no one supplied it either. And why should one? Who likes to dig his own grave? Certainly not the politicians, not the government of the day, or, for that matter, even the financial institutions. Anyone demanding such a list is unwelcome or those talking or alluding to it are untouchable. Such men are hounded out. Whether one shows it or not, the existence of such lists cannot be denied no matter how loudly one denies it. The boatmen also denied it and went their way leaving the inquisitive man masticating his unpleasant cud and to fend for himself. Customers will still come the boatman’s way, list or no list.
Very true, but inquisitive men will also be around, untouchable or otherwise. Because it is these inquisitive men who make or infuse some life into the decaying polity that is our mainstay today. The prime minister declared that he would have TADA replaced with some other Act; and even he would not supply the other list that could possibly tell us as to where things went wrong with TADA.
The list his government would make available would contain only those names that politically suit him and his government. Because the politician in him wants to win over a particular community so that he and his party remain in power. The other list which is withheld from public viewing could show to the world that it was his own ministers who had bungled the most. The other list must, accordingly, remain buried, lest it spills the beans. Obviously, the other list always contained unpleasant matters, not good for public consumption.
But it is because of the presence of these inquisitive men that we are able to ferret out the other list. If we have a semblance of democracy, it is because of our uncanny ability to bring out the other list from time to time. So, the next time a politician flaunts his list of achievements and solicits your support, insist on production of the other list. Democracy will survive. Long live the other list.