Reading Comprehension

According to the passage, the rain allures

Directions: Read the passage given carefully and answer the question that follows.

Rain in the countryside attracts the lovers of nature. It is pleasant and helpful. But rain in the city creates a different kind of sight. For some people, the heavy downpour may have a cooling effect, and it has its charm with the roar of thunder and the flash of lightening. On a rainy day, the lanes and the streets look like rivers and the entire city becomes magically converted into Venice. The street bears a deserted look. Occasionally, people try to plod their way. Their clothes are tucked up and they hold the umbrella in one hand and their bag in the other. A sudden gush of wind tilts their umbrella and they get drenched. If a vehicle passes speedily, it splashes muddy water on them. Sometimes, the streets become water-logged and traffic comes to a halt.

Why do people in cities face inconvenience on a rainy day?

Directions: Read the passage given carefully and answer the question that follows.

Rain in the countryside attracts the lovers of nature. It is pleasant and helpful. But rain in the city creates a different kind of sight. For some people, the heavy downpour may have a cooling effect, and it has its charm with the roar of thunder and the flash of lightening. On a rainy day, the lanes and the streets look like rivers and the entire city becomes magically converted into Venice. The street bears a deserted look. Occasionally, people try to plod their way. Their clothes are tucked up and they hold the umbrella in one hand and their bag in the other. A sudden gush of wind tilts their umbrella and they get drenched. If a vehicle passes speedily, it splashes muddy water on them. Sometimes, the streets become water-logged and traffic comes to a halt.

Which of these, if true, would weaken the author's contention that cross examination is the best method?

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

It needs but the simple statement of the nature of cross-examination to demonstrate its indispensable character in all trials of questions of fact. No cause reaches the stage of litigation unless there are two sides to it. If the witnesses on one side deny or qualify the statements made by those on the other, which side is telling the truth? Not necessarily which side is offering perjured testimony,--there is far less intentional perjury in the courts than the inexperienced would believe,--but which side is honestly mistaken?--for, on the other hand, evidence itself is far less trustworthy than the public usually realizes. Which side of the opinions are warped by prejudice or blinded by ignorance? Which side has had the power or opportunity for correct observation? How shall we tell and make it apparent to a jury of disinterested men who are to decide between the litigants? Obviously, by means of cross-examination.
If all witnesses had the honesty and intelligence to come forward and scrupulously follow the letter as well as the spirit of the oath, "to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," and if all advocates on either side had the necessary experience, combined with honesty and intelligence, and were similarly sworn to develop the whole truth and nothing but the truth, of course there would be no occasion for cross-examination, and the occupation of the cross-examiner would be gone. But as yet no substitute has ever been found for cross-examination as a means of separating truth from falsehood, and of reducing exaggerated statements to their true dimensions.
To this day, the account given by Plato of Socrates’ cross-examination of his accuser,
Miletus, while defending himself against the capital charge of corrupting the youth of Athens, may be quoted as a masterpiece in the art of cross-questioning.
Cross-examination is generally considered to be the most difficult branch of the multifarious duties of the advocate. Success in the art, as some- one has said, comes more often to the happy possessor of a genius for it. Great lawyers have often failed lamentably in it, while marvelous success has crowned the efforts of those who might otherwise have been regarded as of a mediocre grade in the profession. Yet personal experience and the emulation of others trained in the art are the surest means of obtaining proficiency in this all-important pre-requisite of a competent trial lawyer.
It requires the greatest ingenuity; a habit of logical thought; clearness of perception in general; infinite patience and self-control; power to read men's minds intuitively, to judge of their characters by their faces, appreciate their motives; ability to act with force and precision; a masterful knowledge of the subject-matter itself; an extreme caution; and, above all, the instinct to discover the weak point in the witness under examination.

What is the central point of the passage?

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

It needs but the simple statement of the nature of cross-examination to demonstrate its indispensable character in all trials of questions of fact. No cause reaches the stage of litigation unless there are two sides to it. If the witnesses on one side deny or qualify the statements made by those on the other, which side is telling the truth? Not necessarily which side is offering perjured testimony,--there is far less intentional perjury in the courts than the inexperienced would believe,--but which side is honestly mistaken?--for, on the other hand, evidence itself is far less trustworthy than the public usually realizes. Which side of the opinions are warped by prejudice or blinded by ignorance? Which side has had the power or opportunity for correct observation? How shall we tell and make it apparent to a jury of disinterested men who are to decide between the litigants? Obviously, by means of cross-examination.
If all witnesses had the honesty and intelligence to come forward and scrupulously follow the letter as well as the spirit of the oath, "to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," and if all advocates on either side had the necessary experience, combined with honesty and intelligence, and were similarly sworn to develop the whole truth and nothing but the truth, of course there would be no occasion for cross-examination, and the occupation of the cross-examiner would be gone. But as yet no substitute has ever been found for cross-examination as a means of separating truth from falsehood, and of reducing exaggerated statements to their true dimensions.
To this day, the account given by Plato of Socrates’ cross-examination of his accuser,
Miletus, while defending himself against the capital charge of corrupting the youth of Athens, may be quoted as a masterpiece in the art of cross-questioning.
Cross-examination is generally considered to be the most difficult branch of the multifarious duties of the advocate. Success in the art, as some- one has said, comes more often to the happy possessor of a genius for it. Great lawyers have often failed lamentably in it, while marvelous success has crowned the efforts of those who might otherwise have been regarded as of a mediocre grade in the profession. Yet personal experience and the emulation of others trained in the art are the surest means of obtaining proficiency in this all-important pre-requisite of a competent trial lawyer.
It requires the greatest ingenuity; a habit of logical thought; clearness of perception in general; infinite patience and self-control; power to read men's minds intuitively, to judge of their characters by their faces, appreciate their motives; ability to act with force and precision; a masterful knowledge of the subject-matter itself; an extreme caution; and, above all, the instinct to discover the weak point in the witness under examination.

What is the attitude of the author towards 'Cross questioning'?

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

It needs but the simple statement of the nature of cross-examination to demonstrate its indispensable character in all trials of questions of fact. No cause reaches the stage of litigation unless there are two sides to it. If the witnesses on one side deny or qualify the statements made by those on the other, which side is telling the truth? Not necessarily which side is offering perjured testimony,--there is far less intentional perjury in the courts than the inexperienced would believe,--but which side is honestly mistaken?--for, on the other hand, evidence itself is far less trustworthy than the public usually realizes. Which side of the opinions are warped by prejudice or blinded by ignorance? Which side has had the power or opportunity for correct observation? How shall we tell and make it apparent to a jury of disinterested men who are to decide between the litigants? Obviously, by means of cross-examination.
If all witnesses had the honesty and intelligence to come forward and scrupulously follow the letter as well as the spirit of the oath, "to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," and if all advocates on either side had the necessary experience, combined with honesty and intelligence, and were similarly sworn to develop the whole truth and nothing but the truth, of course there would be no occasion for cross-examination, and the occupation of the cross-examiner would be gone. But as yet no substitute has ever been found for cross-examination as a means of separating truth from falsehood, and of reducing exaggerated statements to their true dimensions.
To this day, the account given by Plato of Socrates’ cross-examination of his accuser,
Miletus, while defending himself against the capital charge of corrupting the youth of Athens, may be quoted as a masterpiece in the art of cross-questioning.
Cross-examination is generally considered to be the most difficult branch of the multifarious duties of the advocate. Success in the art, as some- one has said, comes more often to the happy possessor of a genius for it. Great lawyers have often failed lamentably in it, while marvelous success has crowned the efforts of those who might otherwise have been regarded as of a mediocre grade in the profession. Yet personal experience and the emulation of others trained in the art are the surest means of obtaining proficiency in this all-important pre-requisite of a competent trial lawyer.
It requires the greatest ingenuity; a habit of logical thought; clearness of perception in general; infinite patience and self-control; power to read men's minds intuitively, to judge of their characters by their faces, appreciate their motives; ability to act with force and precision; a masterful knowledge of the subject-matter itself; an extreme caution; and, above all, the instinct to discover the weak point in the witness under examination.

Which of these will be a good title for the passage?

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

It needs but the simple statement of the nature of cross-examination to demonstrate its indispensable character in all trials of questions of fact. No cause reaches the stage of litigation unless there are two sides to it. If the witnesses on one side deny or qualify the statements made by those on the other, which side is telling the truth? Not necessarily which side is offering perjured testimony,--there is far less intentional perjury in the courts than the inexperienced would believe,--but which side is honestly mistaken?--for, on the other hand, evidence itself is far less trustworthy than the public usually realizes. Which side of the opinions are warped by prejudice or blinded by ignorance? Which side has had the power or opportunity for correct observation? How shall we tell and make it apparent to a jury of disinterested men who are to decide between the litigants? Obviously, by means of cross-examination.
If all witnesses had the honesty and intelligence to come forward and scrupulously follow the letter as well as the spirit of the oath, "to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," and if all advocates on either side had the necessary experience, combined with honesty and intelligence, and were similarly sworn to develop the whole truth and nothing but the truth, of course there would be no occasion for cross-examination, and the occupation of the cross-examiner would be gone. But as yet no substitute has ever been found for cross-examination as a means of separating truth from falsehood, and of reducing exaggerated statements to their true dimensions.
To this day, the account given by Plato of Socrates’ cross-examination of his accuser,
Miletus, while defending himself against the capital charge of corrupting the youth of Athens, may be quoted as a masterpiece in the art of cross-questioning.
Cross-examination is generally considered to be the most difficult branch of the multifarious duties of the advocate. Success in the art, as some- one has said, comes more often to the happy possessor of a genius for it. Great lawyers have often failed lamentably in it, while marvelous success has crowned the efforts of those who might otherwise have been regarded as of a mediocre grade in the profession. Yet personal experience and the emulation of others trained in the art are the surest means of obtaining proficiency in this all-important pre-requisite of a competent trial lawyer.
It requires the greatest ingenuity; a habit of logical thought; clearness of perception in general; infinite patience and self-control; power to read men's minds intuitively, to judge of their characters by their faces, appreciate their motives; ability to act with force and precision; a masterful knowledge of the subject-matter itself; an extreme caution; and, above all, the instinct to discover the weak point in the witness under examination.

Why does the author give the example of Socrates' cross examination of his accuser?

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

It needs but the simple statement of the nature of cross-examination to demonstrate its indispensable character in all trials of questions of fact. No cause reaches the stage of litigation unless there are two sides to it. If the witnesses on one side deny or qualify the statements made by those on the other, which side is telling the truth? Not necessarily which side is offering perjured testimony,--there is far less intentional perjury in the courts than the inexperienced would believe,--but which side is honestly mistaken?--for, on the other hand, evidence itself is far less trustworthy than the public usually realizes. Which side of the opinions are warped by prejudice or blinded by ignorance? Which side has had the power or opportunity for correct observation? How shall we tell and make it apparent to a jury of disinterested men who are to decide between the litigants? Obviously, by means of cross-examination.
If all witnesses had the honesty and intelligence to come forward and scrupulously follow the letter as well as the spirit of the oath, "to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," and if all advocates on either side had the necessary experience, combined with honesty and intelligence, and were similarly sworn to develop the whole truth and nothing but the truth, of course there would be no occasion for cross-examination, and the occupation of the cross-examiner would be gone. But as yet no substitute has ever been found for cross-examination as a means of separating truth from falsehood, and of reducing exaggerated statements to their true dimensions.
To this day, the account given by Plato of Socrates’ cross-examination of his accuser,
Miletus, while defending himself against the capital charge of corrupting the youth of Athens, may be quoted as a masterpiece in the art of cross-questioning.
Cross-examination is generally considered to be the most difficult branch of the multifarious duties of the advocate. Success in the art, as some- one has said, comes more often to the happy possessor of a genius for it. Great lawyers have often failed lamentably in it, while marvelous success has crowned the efforts of those who might otherwise have been regarded as of a mediocre grade in the profession. Yet personal experience and the emulation of others trained in the art are the surest means of obtaining proficiency in this all-important pre-requisite of a competent trial lawyer.
It requires the greatest ingenuity; a habit of logical thought; clearness of perception in general; infinite patience and self-control; power to read men's minds intuitively, to judge of their characters by their faces, appreciate their motives; ability to act with force and precision; a masterful knowledge of the subject-matter itself; an extreme caution; and, above all, the instinct to discover the weak point in the witness under examination.

What is the tone of the author when he talks about simple pleasures like walking?

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

It is a strange fact that the more perfect do we make travelling, the more tedious does it become—I wonder whether the same may not apply to almost all progress in civilization.
The most primitive aspect of travel is that of walking, and even upon the most tedious of walks the exercise itself seldom degenerates into definite boredom, one is never far away from one's fellow men, yet even if one is quite alone the mere fact of walking is an occupation which cannot be despised; of riding similar things may be said. Coaching may have had its inconveniences, yet a coach drive cannot have been lacking in definite interest. One was in very close contact with one's fellow passengers, coaching made as strange bedfellows as any adversity, and the journey was seldom so short that one could enjoy a sort of snuffy insulation from one's fellows--mutual discomforts, even mutual terrors of footpads made a definite bond of humanity.
It is true that in all these primitive processes the act of getting from here to there is prolonged - perhaps extremely prolonged - but mere duration is not tedium. If the act itself is interesting and vivid then the act itself is worth- while. To-day the act of travelling by a fast train is scarcely worthwhile -the traveler can almost count it out as so much time lost out of life.
What is missing to-day from the act of travelling - and what lacks from much modern civilization - is the expectation of the unexpected; the sense of adventure, the true sauce of life. Now to have the true sense of adventure it is not necessary that one should always be expecting to meet a lion round the corner. Any little thing will do, anything not before experienced, anything that will give the imagination that extra fillip of interest which will convince it that the world will always remain a Fortunate’s purse of new things to learn, anything that will make positive the fact that the act of living is also the act of growing,--anything of this nature will contribute to the sense of adventure.
But the trend of civilization to-day is that all these little interests are being quietly but very effectively crushed: we fling them beneath the wheels of railway trains and into the cogs of factories, with the result that only those experiences which are too large for us to fling thus are allowed to flourish. We have, in fact, almost cleared away the little things and left only the big. Now, if we turn the corner, either there is nothing at all or, in one case out of a hundred, we find the lion.

Which of these is the main idea of the author in the passage?

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

It is a strange fact that the more perfect do we make travelling, the more tedious does it become—I wonder whether the same may not apply to almost all progress in civilization.
The most primitive aspect of travel is that of walking, and even upon the most tedious of walks the exercise itself seldom degenerates into definite boredom, one is never far away from one's fellow men, yet even if one is quite alone the mere fact of walking is an occupation which cannot be despised; of riding similar things may be said. Coaching may have had its inconveniences, yet a coach drive cannot have been lacking in definite interest. One was in very close contact with one's fellow passengers, coaching made as strange bedfellows as any adversity, and the journey was seldom so short that one could enjoy a sort of snuffy insulation from one's fellows--mutual discomforts, even mutual terrors of footpads made a definite bond of humanity.
It is true that in all these primitive processes the act of getting from here to there is prolonged - perhaps extremely prolonged - but mere duration is not tedium. If the act itself is interesting and vivid then the act itself is worth- while. To-day the act of travelling by a fast train is scarcely worthwhile -the traveler can almost count it out as so much time lost out of life.
What is missing to-day from the act of travelling - and what lacks from much modern civilization - is the expectation of the unexpected; the sense of adventure, the true sauce of life. Now to have the true sense of adventure it is not necessary that one should always be expecting to meet a lion round the corner. Any little thing will do, anything not before experienced, anything that will give the imagination that extra fillip of interest which will convince it that the world will always remain a Fortunate’s purse of new things to learn, anything that will make positive the fact that the act of living is also the act of growing,--anything of this nature will contribute to the sense of adventure.
But the trend of civilization to-day is that all these little interests are being quietly but very effectively crushed: we fling them beneath the wheels of railway trains and into the cogs of factories, with the result that only those experiences which are too large for us to fling thus are allowed to flourish. We have, in fact, almost cleared away the little things and left only the big. Now, if we turn the corner, either there is nothing at all or, in one case out of a hundred, we find the lion.

Which of these would be a good title for the passage?

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

It is a strange fact that the more perfect do we make travelling, the more tedious does it become—I wonder whether the same may not apply to almost all progress in civilization.
The most primitive aspect of travel is that of walking, and even upon the most tedious of walks the exercise itself seldom degenerates into definite boredom, one is never far away from one's fellow men, yet even if one is quite alone the mere fact of walking is an occupation which cannot be despised; of riding similar things may be said. Coaching may have had its inconveniences, yet a coach drive cannot have been lacking in definite interest. One was in very close contact with one's fellow passengers, coaching made as strange bedfellows as any adversity, and the journey was seldom so short that one could enjoy a sort of snuffy insulation from one's fellows--mutual discomforts, even mutual terrors of footpads made a definite bond of humanity.
It is true that in all these primitive processes the act of getting from here to there is prolonged - perhaps extremely prolonged - but mere duration is not tedium. If the act itself is interesting and vivid then the act itself is worth- while. To-day the act of travelling by a fast train is scarcely worthwhile -the traveler can almost count it out as so much time lost out of life.
What is missing to-day from the act of travelling - and what lacks from much modern civilization - is the expectation of the unexpected; the sense of adventure, the true sauce of life. Now to have the true sense of adventure it is not necessary that one should always be expecting to meet a lion round the corner. Any little thing will do, anything not before experienced, anything that will give the imagination that extra fillip of interest which will convince it that the world will always remain a Fortunate’s purse of new things to learn, anything that will make positive the fact that the act of living is also the act of growing,--anything of this nature will contribute to the sense of adventure.
But the trend of civilization to-day is that all these little interests are being quietly but very effectively crushed: we fling them beneath the wheels of railway trains and into the cogs of factories, with the result that only those experiences which are too large for us to fling thus are allowed to flourish. We have, in fact, almost cleared away the little things and left only the big. Now, if we turn the corner, either there is nothing at all or, in one case out of a hundred, we find the lion.

Which of these is the attitude of the author regarding the way groups behave?

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

It is a notorious fact that, when a number of men think and feel and act  together, the mental operations and the actions of each member of the group are apt to be very different from those he would achieve if he faced the situation as an isolated individual. Hence, though we may know each member of a group so intimately that we can, with some confidence, foretell his actions under the given circumstances
, we cannot foretell the behavior of the group from our knowledge of the individuals alone. If we would understand and be able to predict the behavior of the group, we must study the way in which the mental processes of its members are modified in virtue of their membership. That is to say, we must study the interactions between the members of the group and also those between the group as a whole and each member. We must examine also the forms of group organization and their influence upon the life of the group.
Groups differ greatly from one another in respect of the kind and degree of organization they possess. In the simplest case the group has no organization. In some cases the relations of the constituent individuals to one another and to the whole group are not in any way determined or fixed by previous events; such a group constitutes merely a mob. In other groups the individuals have certain determinate relations to one another which have arisen in one or more of three ways:
(1) Certain relations may have been established between the individuals, before they came together to form a group; for example, a parish council or a political meeting may be formed by persons belonging to various definitely recognized classes, and their previously recognized relations will continue to play a part in determining the collective deliberations and actions of the group; they will constitute an incipient organization.
(2) If any group enjoys continuity of existence, certain more or less constant relations, of subordination, deference, leadership and so forth, will inevitably become established between the individuals of whom it is composed; and, of course, such relations will usually be deliberately established and maintained by any group that is united by a common purpose, in order that its efficiency may be promoted.
(3) The group may have a continued existence and a more or less elaborate and definite organization independently of the individuals of which it is composed; in such a case the individuals may change while the formal organization of the group persists; each person who enters it being received into some more or less well-defined and generally recognized position within the group, which formal position determines in great measure the nature of his relations to other members of the group and to the group as a whole.
We can hardly imagine any concourse of human beings, however fortuitous it may be, utterly devoid of the rudiments of organization of one or other of these three kinds; nevertheless, in many a fortuitous concourse the influence of such rudimentary organization is so slight as to be negligible. Such a group is an unorganized crowd or mob. The unorganized crowd presents many of the fundamental phenomena of collective psychology in relative simplicity; whereas the higher the degree of organization of a group, the more complicated is its psychology.

Which of these is a good title for the passage?

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

It is a notorious fact that, when a number of men think and feel and act  together, the mental operations and the actions of each member of the group are apt to be very different from those he would achieve if he faced the situation as an isolated individual. Hence, though we may know each member of a group so intimately that we can, with some confidence, foretell his actions under the given circumstances
, we cannot foretell the behavior of the group from our knowledge of the individuals alone. If we would understand and be able to predict the behavior of the group, we must study the way in which the mental processes of its members are modified in virtue of their membership. That is to say, we must study the interactions between the members of the group and also those between the group as a whole and each member. We must examine also the forms of group organization and their influence upon the life of the group.
Groups differ greatly from one another in respect of the kind and degree of organization they possess. In the simplest case the group has no organization. In some cases the relations of the constituent individuals to one another and to the whole group are not in any way determined or fixed by previous events; such a group constitutes merely a mob. In other groups the individuals have certain determinate relations to one another which have arisen in one or more of three ways:
(1) Certain relations may have been established between the individuals, before they came together to form a group; for example, a parish council or a political meeting may be formed by persons belonging to various definitely recognized classes, and their previously recognized relations will continue to play a part in determining the collective deliberations and actions of the group; they will constitute an incipient organization.
(2) If any group enjoys continuity of existence, certain more or less constant relations, of subordination, deference, leadership and so forth, will inevitably become established between the individuals of whom it is composed; and, of course, such relations will usually be deliberately established and maintained by any group that is united by a common purpose, in order that its efficiency may be promoted.
(3) The group may have a continued existence and a more or less elaborate and definite organization independently of the individuals of which it is composed; in such a case the individuals may change while the formal organization of the group persists; each person who enters it being received into some more or less well-defined and generally recognized position within the group, which formal position determines in great measure the nature of his relations to other members of the group and to the group as a whole.
We can hardly imagine any concourse of human beings, however fortuitous it may be, utterly devoid of the rudiments of organization of one or other of these three kinds; nevertheless, in many a fortuitous concourse the influence of such rudimentary organization is so slight as to be negligible. Such a group is an unorganized crowd or mob. The unorganized crowd presents many of the fundamental phenomena of collective psychology in relative simplicity; whereas the higher the degree of organization of a group, the more complicated is its psychology.

Which of these is the central idea of the passage?

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

It is a notorious fact that, when a number of men think and feel and act  together, the mental operations and the actions of each member of the group are apt to be very different from those he would achieve if he faced the situation as an isolated individual. Hence, though we may know each member of a group so intimately that we can, with some confidence, foretell his actions under the given circumstances
, we cannot foretell the behavior of the group from our knowledge of the individuals alone. If we would understand and be able to predict the behavior of the group, we must study the way in which the mental processes of its members are modified in virtue of their membership. That is to say, we must study the interactions between the members of the group and also those between the group as a whole and each member. We must examine also the forms of group organization and their influence upon the life of the group.
Groups differ greatly from one another in respect of the kind and degree of organization they possess. In the simplest case the group has no organization. In some cases the relations of the constituent individuals to one another and to the whole group are not in any way determined or fixed by previous events; such a group constitutes merely a mob. In other groups the individuals have certain determinate relations to one another which have arisen in one or more of three ways:
(1) Certain relations may have been established between the individuals, before they came together to form a group; for example, a parish council or a political meeting may be formed by persons belonging to various definitely recognized classes, and their previously recognized relations will continue to play a part in determining the collective deliberations and actions of the group; they will constitute an incipient organization.
(2) If any group enjoys continuity of existence, certain more or less constant relations, of subordination, deference, leadership and so forth, will inevitably become established between the individuals of whom it is composed; and, of course, such relations will usually be deliberately established and maintained by any group that is united by a common purpose, in order that its efficiency may be promoted.
(3) The group may have a continued existence and a more or less elaborate and definite organization independently of the individuals of which it is composed; in such a case the individuals may change while the formal organization of the group persists; each person who enters it being received into some more or less well-defined and generally recognized position within the group, which formal position determines in great measure the nature of his relations to other members of the group and to the group as a whole.
We can hardly imagine any concourse of human beings, however fortuitous it may be, utterly devoid of the rudiments of organization of one or other of these three kinds; nevertheless, in many a fortuitous concourse the influence of such rudimentary organization is so slight as to be negligible. Such a group is an unorganized crowd or mob. The unorganized crowd presents many of the fundamental phenomena of collective psychology in relative simplicity; whereas the higher the degree of organization of a group, the more complicated is its psychology.

Which of these, if true, would weaken the contention of the author that using more perfect modes of travel makes us lose the pleasure of doing these things?

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

It is a strange fact that the more perfect do we make travelling, the more tedious does it become—I wonder whether the same may not apply to almost all progress in civilization.
The most primitive aspect of travel is that of walking, and even upon the most tedious of walks the exercise itself seldom degenerates into definite boredom, one is never far away from one's fellow men, yet even if one is quite alone the mere fact of walking is an occupation which cannot be despised; of riding similar things may be said. Coaching may have had its inconveniences, yet a coach drive cannot have been lacking in definite interest. One was in very close contact with one's fellow passengers, coaching made as strange bedfellows as any adversity, and the journey was seldom so short that one could enjoy a sort of snuffy insulation from one's fellows--mutual discomforts, even mutual terrors of footpads made a definite bond of humanity.
It is true that in all these primitive processes the act of getting from here to there is prolonged - perhaps extremely prolonged - but mere duration is not tedium. If the act itself is interesting and vivid then the act itself is worth- while. To-day the act of travelling by a fast train is scarcely worthwhile -the traveler can almost count it out as so much time lost out of life.
What is missing to-day from the act of travelling - and what lacks from much modern civilization - is the expectation of the unexpected; the sense of adventure, the true sauce of life. Now to have the true sense of adventure it is not necessary that one should always be expecting to meet a lion round the corner. Any little thing will do, anything not before experienced, anything that will give the imagination that extra fillip of interest which will convince it that the world will always remain a Fortunate’s purse of new things to learn, anything that will make positive the fact that the act of living is also the act of growing,--anything of this nature will contribute to the sense of adventure.
But the trend of civilization to-day is that all these little interests are being quietly but very effectively crushed: we fling them beneath the wheels of railway trains and into the cogs of factories, with the result that only those experiences which are too large for us to fling thus are allowed to flourish. We have, in fact, almost cleared away the little things and left only the big. Now, if we turn the corner, either there is nothing at all or, in one case out of a hundred, we find the lion.

Which of these options will not fit in with the contents of this passage?

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

It is a strange fact that the more perfect do we make travelling, the more tedious does it become—I wonder whether the same may not apply to almost all progress in civilization.
The most primitive aspect of travel is that of walking, and even upon the most tedious of walks the exercise itself seldom degenerates into definite boredom, one is never far away from one's fellow men, yet even if one is quite alone the mere fact of walking is an occupation which cannot be despised; of riding similar things may be said. Coaching may have had its inconveniences, yet a coach drive cannot have been lacking in definite interest. One was in very close contact with one's fellow passengers, coaching made as strange bedfellows as any adversity, and the journey was seldom so short that one could enjoy a sort of snuffy insulation from one's fellows--mutual discomforts, even mutual terrors of footpads made a definite bond of humanity.
It is true that in all these primitive processes the act of getting from here to there is prolonged - perhaps extremely prolonged - but mere duration is not tedium. If the act itself is interesting and vivid then the act itself is worth- while. To-day the act of travelling by a fast train is scarcely worthwhile -the traveler can almost count it out as so much time lost out of life.
What is missing to-day from the act of travelling - and what lacks from much modern civilization - is the expectation of the unexpected; the sense of adventure, the true sauce of life. Now to have the true sense of adventure it is not necessary that one should always be expecting to meet a lion round the corner. Any little thing will do, anything not before experienced, anything that will give the imagination that extra fillip of interest which will convince it that the world will always remain a Fortunate’s purse of new things to learn, anything that will make positive the fact that the act of living is also the act of growing,--anything of this nature will contribute to the sense of adventure.
But the trend of civilization to-day is that all these little interests are being quietly but very effectively crushed: we fling them beneath the wheels of railway trains and into the cogs of factories, with the result that only those experiences which are too large for us to fling thus are allowed to flourish. We have, in fact, almost cleared away the little things and left only the big. Now, if we turn the corner, either there is nothing at all or, in one case out of a hundred, we find the lion.