Reading Comprehension

That Repartee is best which leaves the addressee

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

Passage – I
I have used the word "artless" in my title for good reason, for if there be even a suggestion of premeditation about a repartee, it ceases to be what it is meant for – its power is gone. It is true that repartee has been diagnosed, analyzed and defined in many ways from early times down to our own day; but, instead of wearying my readers with the results of such investigations, I prefer to state briefly that in my opinion a good repartee is the saying of something on the spur of the moment which, by the unanimous consent of its hearers, leaves the person replied to practically destitute of further speech by way of defence.
We are told by some authorities that a repartee should be courteous in form, though severe in substance, and difficult either to mistake or to resent. It is undoubtedly so in its most polished guise –where it takes on a high form of wit and leaves no ranking sting behind – but in as much as some of the best repartees ever delivered are not of that highly polished order, crammed though they may be with cleverness, I do not see that they should be altogether excluded in treating of the subject. I agree rather with the Irishmen who defined repartee as "an insult with its dress– suit on," because, like the quick and well directed knock out blow of a champion of the prize ring, it cannot be dissociated altogether from brutality. A collection of smart replies which conformed too closely to the more polite and diplomatic standard might possesses the elements of instruction, but would certainly be lacking in more amusing qualities.
No one is altogether immune from a witty reply: kings and others of exalted birth or high official standing, down to the man in the street, they all have bad their turn, but the humorist is, of course, treading on rather dangerous ground when he knowingly takes too great a liberty with those of the highest rank, and when dealing with such the repartee has to be wrapped up with more than ordinary care if trouble is to be avoided.

The essential quality of Repartee, according to the author is

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

Passage – I
I have used the word "artless" in my title for good reason, for if there be even a suggestion of premeditation about a repartee, it ceases to be what it is meant for – its power is gone. It is true that repartee has been diagnosed, analyzed and defined in many ways from early times down to our own day; but, instead of wearying my readers with the results of such investigations, I prefer to state briefly that in my opinion a good repartee is the saying of something on the spur of the moment which, by the unanimous consent of its hearers, leaves the person replied to practically destitute of further speech by way of defence.
We are told by some authorities that a repartee should be courteous in form, though severe in substance, and difficult either to mistake or to resent. It is undoubtedly so in its most polished guise –where it takes on a high form of wit and leaves no ranking sting behind – but in as much as some of the best repartees ever delivered are not of that highly polished order, crammed though they may be with cleverness, I do not see that they should be altogether excluded in treating of the subject. I agree rather with the Irishmen who defined repartee as "an insult with its dress– suit on," because, like the quick and well directed knock out blow of a champion of the prize ring, it cannot be dissociated altogether from brutality. A collection of smart replies which conformed too closely to the more polite and diplomatic standard might possesses the elements of instruction, but would certainly be lacking in more amusing qualities.
No one is altogether immune from a witty reply: kings and others of exalted birth or high official standing, down to the man in the street, they all have bad their turn, but the humorist is, of course, treading on rather dangerous ground when he knowingly takes too great a liberty with those of the highest rank, and when dealing with such the repartee has to be wrapped up with more than ordinary care if trouble is to be avoided.

Which of the following best describes the inherent contradiction in a good Repartee?

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

Passage – I
I have used the word "artless" in my title for good reason, for if there be even a suggestion of premeditation about a repartee, it ceases to be what it is meant for – its power is gone. It is true that repartee has been diagnosed, analyzed and defined in many ways from early times down to our own day; but, instead of wearying my readers with the results of such investigations, I prefer to state briefly that in my opinion a good repartee is the saying of something on the spur of the moment which, by the unanimous consent of its hearers, leaves the person replied to practically destitute of further speech by way of defence.
We are told by some authorities that a repartee should be courteous in form, though severe in substance, and difficult either to mistake or to resent. It is undoubtedly so in its most polished guise –where it takes on a high form of wit and leaves no ranking sting behind – but in as much as some of the best repartees ever delivered are not of that highly polished order, crammed though they may be with cleverness, I do not see that they should be altogether excluded in treating of the subject. I agree rather with the Irishmen who defined repartee as "an insult with its dress– suit on," because, like the quick and well directed knock out blow of a champion of the prize ring, it cannot be dissociated altogether from brutality. A collection of smart replies which conformed too closely to the more polite and diplomatic standard might possesses the elements of instruction, but would certainly be lacking in more amusing qualities.
No one is altogether immune from a witty reply: kings and others of exalted birth or high official standing, down to the man in the street, they all have bad their turn, but the humorist is, of course, treading on rather dangerous ground when he knowingly takes too great a liberty with those of the highest rank, and when dealing with such the repartee has to be wrapped up with more than ordinary care if trouble is to be avoided.

In the passage, the author has

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

Passage – II
That time has many dimensions is a concept often advanced to account for certain inexplicable happenings. The gist of the idea is that time - which seems to unfold in a linear way, with the past coming before the present and the present before the future - might, in another dimension, not be experienced sequentially. The past, present and future could exist simultaneously.
The concept that there are unfamiliar dimensions of time is most easily approached by way of those dimensions with which we are already familiar, those of length, height, and breadth. These, in turn, are best approached, quite literally, from a starting point, which, geometrically speaking, has a location but no dimensions. It does, however, relate to figures with dimensions in the following way: If a point is moved through space, it marks a line, with the one dimension of length. If a line is moved through space, it traces the figure of a plane, with the two dimensions of length and breadth. And if a plane is moved in space, it traces a figure with the three dimensions of length, breadth, and height.
We can also work backward from a three-dimensional body and find that the cross-section of the three- dimensional cube is a two-dimensional plane, the cross-section of the two-dimensional plane is a one-dimensional line, and that the cross-section of the line is a dimensionless point. From this we can infer that a body of three dimensions is the cross-section of a body, when moved in a certain way, of four dimensions. Then comes the question, of what sort of body could a three-dimensional shape be the cross-section? And in what sort of new direction could a three-dimensional shape be moved to produce one of four dimensions, since a movement other than up and down, backward and forward, or side to side would simply produce a larger figure, not one of a different dimension. The answer, of course, is the feature duration. For as soon as something ceases to endure, it ceases to exist. To the three familiar dimensions, then, we should add duration in time as a fourth dimension. Ordinary three-dimensional bodies should therefore be properly described as having only length, breadth & height but no duration. Is such a thing possible? It is, but only hypothetically. For in fact, the point, line, and plane do not truly exist as such. Any line that can be seen has breadth as well as length (and duration), just as any physical plane has a certain thickness as well as length and breadth. What movement, then, must a figure of three dimensions undergo to produce a body of four dimensions?
We moved a plane in the dimension of height to produce a cube; so the movement of a (hypothetical) cube in the dimension of time should produce a (real) figure of four dimensions. What does movement in the dimension of time mean? As we said, it must mean movement in a new direction, not up down or sideways. Are there any other kinds of movement? For a start, there is the movement that the earth's rotation imparts to everything upon it and that puts even apparently motionless bodies in motion. Thus, we may say that the cross-section of a real body, whose fourth dimension is duration, is inseparable from the motion that the turning world inevitably imparts to everything. Further inevitable notions are that of the earth around the sun, of the sun around the centre of the galaxy, and, perhaps, of the galaxy itself around some unknown point. Since any perceptible body is, in fact, undergoing all these motions simultaneously, we can say that it is ordinarily imperceptible. Because motions and the dimensions they imply are only perceptible in a framework of time, they can be referred to as dimensions of time.
If duration is one aspect of time; what might the others be? Among several possibilities, we can suggest appearance and disappearance, change and recurrence. Of all possibilities, only duration is perceptible. When we say that something is perceptible, we mean that we suddenly note its existence; when something disappears we note its lack of existence. We perceive no intermediate condition of "appearing" or "disappearing”. In the same way, we talk of change but actually only develop the concept, as we perceive aggregates of characteristics that exist - or cease to exist. And so we infer, but do not observe, the recurrence of sunset and sunrise, the passage of seasons, the growth of a child. And yet, things really do appear and disappear, change and recur, although not actually perceived to do so. They are, so to speak, hypothetical to us and must have their reality in other dimensions of time, just as the hypothetical three-dimensional body becomes real, that is, perceptible, in the dimension of time we call duration.
If access to higher dimensions of time belongs to one body, it is at least theoretically possible that it belongs, though invisibly, to all bodies. We can further assume that such access is by way of unfamiliar modes or levels of consciousness – and that the name we give to one of these is prophecy.

The passage is

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

Passage – II
That time has many dimensions is a concept often advanced to account for certain inexplicable happenings. The gist of the idea is that time - which seems to unfold in a linear way, with the past coming before the present and the present before the future - might, in another dimension, not be experienced sequentially. The past, present and future could exist simultaneously.
The concept that there are unfamiliar dimensions of time is most easily approached by way of those dimensions with which we are already familiar, those of length, height, and breadth. These, in turn, are best approached, quite literally, from a starting point, which, geometrically speaking, has a location but no dimensions. It does, however, relate to figures with dimensions in the following way: If a point is moved through space, it marks a line, with the one dimension of length. If a line is moved through space, it traces the figure of a plane, with the two dimensions of length and breadth. And if a plane is moved in space, it traces a figure with the three dimensions of length, breadth, and height.
We can also work backward from a three-dimensional body and find that the cross-section of the three- dimensional cube is a two-dimensional plane, the cross-section of the two-dimensional plane is a one-dimensional line, and that the cross-section of the line is a dimensionless point. From this we can infer that a body of three dimensions is the cross-section of a body, when moved in a certain way, of four dimensions. Then comes the question, of what sort of body could a three-dimensional shape be the cross-section? And in what sort of new direction could a three-dimensional shape be moved to produce one of four dimensions, since a movement other than up and down, backward and forward, or side to side would simply produce a larger figure, not one of a different dimension. The answer, of course, is the feature duration. For as soon as something ceases to endure, it ceases to exist. To the three familiar dimensions, then, we should add duration in time as a fourth dimension. Ordinary three-dimensional bodies should therefore be properly described as having only length, breadth & height but no duration. Is such a thing possible? It is, but only hypothetically. For in fact, the point, line, and plane do not truly exist as such. Any line that can be seen has breadth as well as length (and duration), just as any physical plane has a certain thickness as well as length and breadth. What movement, then, must a figure of three dimensions undergo to produce a body of four dimensions?
We moved a plane in the dimension of height to produce a cube; so the movement of a (hypothetical) cube in the dimension of time should produce a (real) figure of four dimensions. What does movement in the dimension of time mean? As we said, it must mean movement in a new direction, not up down or sideways. Are there any other kinds of movement? For a start, there is the movement that the earth's rotation imparts to everything upon it and that puts even apparently motionless bodies in motion. Thus, we may say that the cross-section of a real body, whose fourth dimension is duration, is inseparable from the motion that the turning world inevitably imparts to everything. Further inevitable notions are that of the earth around the sun, of the sun around the centre of the galaxy, and, perhaps, of the galaxy itself around some unknown point. Since any perceptible body is, in fact, undergoing all these motions simultaneously, we can say that it is ordinarily imperceptible. Because motions and the dimensions they imply are only perceptible in a framework of time, they can be referred to as dimensions of time.
If duration is one aspect of time; what might the others be? Among several possibilities, we can suggest appearance and disappearance, change and recurrence. Of all possibilities, only duration is perceptible. When we say that something is perceptible, we mean that we suddenly note its existence; when something disappears we note its lack of existence. We perceive no intermediate condition of "appearing" or "disappearing”. In the same way, we talk of change but actually only develop the concept, as we perceive aggregates of characteristics that exist - or cease to exist. And so we infer, but do not observe, the recurrence of sunset and sunrise, the passage of seasons, the growth of a child. And yet, things really do appear and disappear, change and recur, although not actually perceived to do so. They are, so to speak, hypothetical to us and must have their reality in other dimensions of time, just as the hypothetical three-dimensional body becomes real, that is, perceptible, in the dimension of time we call duration.
If access to higher dimensions of time belongs to one body, it is at least theoretically possible that it belongs, though invisibly, to all bodies. We can further assume that such access is by way of unfamiliar modes or levels of consciousness – and that the name we give to one of these is prophecy.

To understand the "dimensions" of time, we have to

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

Passage – II
That time has many dimensions is a concept often advanced to account for certain inexplicable happenings. The gist of the idea is that time - which seems to unfold in a linear way, with the past coming before the present and the present before the future - might, in another dimension, not be experienced sequentially. The past, present and future could exist simultaneously.
The concept that there are unfamiliar dimensions of time is most easily approached by way of those dimensions with which we are already familiar, those of length, height, and breadth. These, in turn, are best approached, quite literally, from a starting point, which, geometrically speaking, has a location but no dimensions. It does, however, relate to figures with dimensions in the following way: If a point is moved through space, it marks a line, with the one dimension of length. If a line is moved through space, it traces the figure of a plane, with the two dimensions of length and breadth. And if a plane is moved in space, it traces a figure with the three dimensions of length, breadth, and height.
We can also work backward from a three-dimensional body and find that the cross-section of the three- dimensional cube is a two-dimensional plane, the cross-section of the two-dimensional plane is a one-dimensional line, and that the cross-section of the line is a dimensionless point. From this we can infer that a body of three dimensions is the cross-section of a body, when moved in a certain way, of four dimensions. Then comes the question, of what sort of body could a three-dimensional shape be the cross-section? And in what sort of new direction could a three-dimensional shape be moved to produce one of four dimensions, since a movement other than up and down, backward and forward, or side to side would simply produce a larger figure, not one of a different dimension. The answer, of course, is the feature duration. For as soon as something ceases to endure, it ceases to exist. To the three familiar dimensions, then, we should add duration in time as a fourth dimension. Ordinary three-dimensional bodies should therefore be properly described as having only length, breadth & height but no duration. Is such a thing possible? It is, but only hypothetically. For in fact, the point, line, and plane do not truly exist as such. Any line that can be seen has breadth as well as length (and duration), just as any physical plane has a certain thickness as well as length and breadth. What movement, then, must a figure of three dimensions undergo to produce a body of four dimensions?
We moved a plane in the dimension of height to produce a cube; so the movement of a (hypothetical) cube in the dimension of time should produce a (real) figure of four dimensions. What does movement in the dimension of time mean? As we said, it must mean movement in a new direction, not up down or sideways. Are there any other kinds of movement? For a start, there is the movement that the earth's rotation imparts to everything upon it and that puts even apparently motionless bodies in motion. Thus, we may say that the cross-section of a real body, whose fourth dimension is duration, is inseparable from the motion that the turning world inevitably imparts to everything. Further inevitable notions are that of the earth around the sun, of the sun around the centre of the galaxy, and, perhaps, of the galaxy itself around some unknown point. Since any perceptible body is, in fact, undergoing all these motions simultaneously, we can say that it is ordinarily imperceptible. Because motions and the dimensions they imply are only perceptible in a framework of time, they can be referred to as dimensions of time.
If duration is one aspect of time; what might the others be? Among several possibilities, we can suggest appearance and disappearance, change and recurrence. Of all possibilities, only duration is perceptible. When we say that something is perceptible, we mean that we suddenly note its existence; when something disappears we note its lack of existence. We perceive no intermediate condition of "appearing" or "disappearing”. In the same way, we talk of change but actually only develop the concept, as we perceive aggregates of characteristics that exist - or cease to exist. And so we infer, but do not observe, the recurrence of sunset and sunrise, the passage of seasons, the growth of a child. And yet, things really do appear and disappear, change and recur, although not actually perceived to do so. They are, so to speak, hypothetical to us and must have their reality in other dimensions of time, just as the hypothetical three-dimensional body becomes real, that is, perceptible, in the dimension of time we call duration.
If access to higher dimensions of time belongs to one body, it is at least theoretically possible that it belongs, though invisibly, to all bodies. We can further assume that such access is by way of unfamiliar modes or levels of consciousness – and that the name we give to one of these is prophecy.

The author mainly agrees with the idea that

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

Passage – II
That time has many dimensions is a concept often advanced to account for certain inexplicable happenings. The gist of the idea is that time - which seems to unfold in a linear way, with the past coming before the present and the present before the future - might, in another dimension, not be experienced sequentially. The past, present and future could exist simultaneously.
The concept that there are unfamiliar dimensions of time is most easily approached by way of those dimensions with which we are already familiar, those of length, height, and breadth. These, in turn, are best approached, quite literally, from a starting point, which, geometrically speaking, has a location but no dimensions. It does, however, relate to figures with dimensions in the following way: If a point is moved through space, it marks a line, with the one dimension of length. If a line is moved through space, it traces the figure of a plane, with the two dimensions of length and breadth. And if a plane is moved in space, it traces a figure with the three dimensions of length, breadth, and height.
We can also work backward from a three-dimensional body and find that the cross-section of the three- dimensional cube is a two-dimensional plane, the cross-section of the two-dimensional plane is a one-dimensional line, and that the cross-section of the line is a dimensionless point. From this we can infer that a body of three dimensions is the cross-section of a body, when moved in a certain way, of four dimensions. Then comes the question, of what sort of body could a three-dimensional shape be the cross-section? And in what sort of new direction could a three-dimensional shape be moved to produce one of four dimensions, since a movement other than up and down, backward and forward, or side to side would simply produce a larger figure, not one of a different dimension. The answer, of course, is the feature duration. For as soon as something ceases to endure, it ceases to exist. To the three familiar dimensions, then, we should add duration in time as a fourth dimension. Ordinary three-dimensional bodies should therefore be properly described as having only length, breadth & height but no duration. Is such a thing possible? It is, but only hypothetically. For in fact, the point, line, and plane do not truly exist as such. Any line that can be seen has breadth as well as length (and duration), just as any physical plane has a certain thickness as well as length and breadth. What movement, then, must a figure of three dimensions undergo to produce a body of four dimensions?
We moved a plane in the dimension of height to produce a cube; so the movement of a (hypothetical) cube in the dimension of time should produce a (real) figure of four dimensions. What does movement in the dimension of time mean? As we said, it must mean movement in a new direction, not up down or sideways. Are there any other kinds of movement? For a start, there is the movement that the earth's rotation imparts to everything upon it and that puts even apparently motionless bodies in motion. Thus, we may say that the cross-section of a real body, whose fourth dimension is duration, is inseparable from the motion that the turning world inevitably imparts to everything. Further inevitable notions are that of the earth around the sun, of the sun around the centre of the galaxy, and, perhaps, of the galaxy itself around some unknown point. Since any perceptible body is, in fact, undergoing all these motions simultaneously, we can say that it is ordinarily imperceptible. Because motions and the dimensions they imply are only perceptible in a framework of time, they can be referred to as dimensions of time.
If duration is one aspect of time; what might the others be? Among several possibilities, we can suggest appearance and disappearance, change and recurrence. Of all possibilities, only duration is perceptible. When we say that something is perceptible, we mean that we suddenly note its existence; when something disappears we note its lack of existence. We perceive no intermediate condition of "appearing" or "disappearing”. In the same way, we talk of change but actually only develop the concept, as we perceive aggregates of characteristics that exist - or cease to exist. And so we infer, but do not observe, the recurrence of sunset and sunrise, the passage of seasons, the growth of a child. And yet, things really do appear and disappear, change and recur, although not actually perceived to do so. They are, so to speak, hypothetical to us and must have their reality in other dimensions of time, just as the hypothetical three-dimensional body becomes real, that is, perceptible, in the dimension of time we call duration.
If access to higher dimensions of time belongs to one body, it is at least theoretically possible that it belongs, though invisibly, to all bodies. We can further assume that such access is by way of unfamiliar modes or levels of consciousness – and that the name we give to one of these is prophecy.

According to the author, the reason that women still get special privileges is that

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

Passage – III
Titanic, the leviathan, the colossal ship met its end on that fateful day of April, 1912. Hundreds of passengers lost their lives, various men, women & children. There were around 701 – 713 survivors, most of them being women & children. This arises in front of us an important question – why were more women & children alive after the mishap? Would we call it sheer co–incidence or a foolish show of chivalry on the part of men of the twentieth century?
You're on the Titanic II. It has just hit an iceberg and is sinking. And, as last time, there are not enough lifeboats. The captain shouts, "Women and children first!" But this time, another voice is heard: "Why women?"
Why, indeed? Part of the charm of the cosmically successful movie Titanic is the period costume, period extravagance, period class prejudice. Oddly, however, of all the period mores in the film, the old maritime tradition of "women and children first" enjoys total acceptance by modern audiences.                                             
But is not grouping women with children a raging anachronism? Should not any self–respecting modern person, let alone feminist, object to it as patronizing and demeaning to women?
Now, children are entitled to special consideration for two reasons: helplessness and innocence. They have not yet acquired either the faculty of reason or the wisdom of experience. Consequently, they are defenceless and blameless.
That is why we grant them special protection. In an emergency, it is our duty to save them first because they, helpless, have put their lives in our hands. And in wartime, they are supposed to enjoy special immunity because they, blameless, can have threatened or offended no one.
"Women and children" attributes to women the same pitiable dependence and moral simplicity we find in five–year–olds. Do the women agree to it? Such an attitude made sense perhaps in an era of male suffrage and "Help Wanted: Female" classifieds. Given the disabilities attached to womanhood in 1912, it was only fair and right that a new standard of gender equality not suddenly be proclaimed just as lifeboat seats were being handed out. That deference a somewhat more urgent variant of giving up your seat on the bus to a woman–complemented and perhaps compensated for the legal and social constraints placed on women at the time.
But in this day of the most extensive societal restructuring to grant women equality in education, in employment, in government, in athletics, in citizenship, what entitles women to the privileges–and reduces them to the status of children?
The evolutionary psychologists might say that ladies–to–the–lifeboats is an instinct that developed to perpetuate the species: women are indispensable child bearers. You can repopulate a village if the women survive and only a few of the men, but you cannot repopulate a village if the men survive and only a few of the women. Women being more precious, biologically speaking, than men, evolution has conditioned us to give them the kind of life–protecting deference we give to that other seed of the future, kids.
The problem with this kind of logic, however, is its depressing reductionism. It recapitulates in all seriousness the geneticist's old witticism that a chicken is just an egg's way of making another egg.
But humans are more than just egg layers. And chivalrous traditions are more than just disguised survival strategies. So why do we say "women and children"? Perhaps it's really "women for children". The most basic parental bond is maternal. Equal parenting is great-it has forced men to get off their duffs-but women, from breast to cradle to cuddle, can nurture in ways that men cannot. And thus, because we value children-who would deny them first crack at the lifeboats? Women should go second. The children need them.
But kiddie-centrism gets you only so far. What if there are no children on board? You are on the Titanic III, a singles cruise. No kids, no moms, no dads.
Here's my scenario. The men, out of sheer irrational gallantry, should let the women go first. And the women, out of sheer feminist self–respect, should refuse.
Result? Stalemate. How does this movie end? How should it end? Hurry, the ship's going down.

The reason that women were given preferential treatment on the Titanic was

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

Passage – III
Titanic, the leviathan, the colossal ship met its end on that fateful day of April, 1912. Hundreds of passengers lost their lives, various men, women & children. There were around 701 – 713 survivors, most of them being women & children. This arises in front of us an important question – why were more women & children alive after the mishap? Would we call it sheer co–incidence or a foolish show of chivalry on the part of men of the twentieth century?
You're on the Titanic II. It has just hit an iceberg and is sinking. And, as last time, there are not enough lifeboats. The captain shouts, "Women and children first!" But this time, another voice is heard: "Why women?"
Why, indeed? Part of the charm of the cosmically successful movie Titanic is the period costume, period extravagance, period class prejudice. Oddly, however, of all the period mores in the film, the old maritime tradition of "women and children first" enjoys total acceptance by modern audiences.                                             
But is not grouping women with children a raging anachronism? Should not any self–respecting modern person, let alone feminist, object to it as patronizing and demeaning to women?
Now, children are entitled to special consideration for two reasons: helplessness and innocence. They have not yet acquired either the faculty of reason or the wisdom of experience. Consequently, they are defenceless and blameless.
That is why we grant them special protection. In an emergency, it is our duty to save them first because they, helpless, have put their lives in our hands. And in wartime, they are supposed to enjoy special immunity because they, blameless, can have threatened or offended no one.
"Women and children" attributes to women the same pitiable dependence and moral simplicity we find in five–year–olds. Do the women agree to it? Such an attitude made sense perhaps in an era of male suffrage and "Help Wanted: Female" classifieds. Given the disabilities attached to womanhood in 1912, it was only fair and right that a new standard of gender equality not suddenly be proclaimed just as lifeboat seats were being handed out. That deference a somewhat more urgent variant of giving up your seat on the bus to a woman–complemented and perhaps compensated for the legal and social constraints placed on women at the time.
But in this day of the most extensive societal restructuring to grant women equality in education, in employment, in government, in athletics, in citizenship, what entitles women to the privileges–and reduces them to the status of children?
The evolutionary psychologists might say that ladies–to–the–lifeboats is an instinct that developed to perpetuate the species: women are indispensable child bearers. You can repopulate a village if the women survive and only a few of the men, but you cannot repopulate a village if the men survive and only a few of the women. Women being more precious, biologically speaking, than men, evolution has conditioned us to give them the kind of life–protecting deference we give to that other seed of the future, kids.
The problem with this kind of logic, however, is its depressing reductionism. It recapitulates in all seriousness the geneticist's old witticism that a chicken is just an egg's way of making another egg.
But humans are more than just egg layers. And chivalrous traditions are more than just disguised survival strategies. So why do we say "women and children"? Perhaps it's really "women for children". The most basic parental bond is maternal. Equal parenting is great-it has forced men to get off their duffs-but women, from breast to cradle to cuddle, can nurture in ways that men cannot. And thus, because we value children-who would deny them first crack at the lifeboats? Women should go second. The children need them.
But kiddie-centrism gets you only so far. What if there are no children on board? You are on the Titanic III, a singles cruise. No kids, no moms, no dads.
Here's my scenario. The men, out of sheer irrational gallantry, should let the women go first. And the women, out of sheer feminist self–respect, should refuse.
Result? Stalemate. How does this movie end? How should it end? Hurry, the ship's going down.

The essay is

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

Passage – III
Titanic, the leviathan, the colossal ship met its end on that fateful day of April, 1912. Hundreds of passengers lost their lives, various men, women & children. There were around 701 – 713 survivors, most of them being women & children. This arises in front of us an important question – why were more women & children alive after the mishap? Would we call it sheer co–incidence or a foolish show of chivalry on the part of men of the twentieth century?
You're on the Titanic II. It has just hit an iceberg and is sinking. And, as last time, there are not enough lifeboats. The captain shouts, "Women and children first!" But this time, another voice is heard: "Why women?"
Why, indeed? Part of the charm of the cosmically successful movie Titanic is the period costume, period extravagance, period class prejudice. Oddly, however, of all the period mores in the film, the old maritime tradition of "women and children first" enjoys total acceptance by modern audiences.                                             
But is not grouping women with children a raging anachronism? Should not any self–respecting modern person, let alone feminist, object to it as patronizing and demeaning to women?
Now, children are entitled to special consideration for two reasons: helplessness and innocence. They have not yet acquired either the faculty of reason or the wisdom of experience. Consequently, they are defenceless and blameless.
That is why we grant them special protection. In an emergency, it is our duty to save them first because they, helpless, have put their lives in our hands. And in wartime, they are supposed to enjoy special immunity because they, blameless, can have threatened or offended no one.
"Women and children" attributes to women the same pitiable dependence and moral simplicity we find in five–year–olds. Do the women agree to it? Such an attitude made sense perhaps in an era of male suffrage and "Help Wanted: Female" classifieds. Given the disabilities attached to womanhood in 1912, it was only fair and right that a new standard of gender equality not suddenly be proclaimed just as lifeboat seats were being handed out. That deference a somewhat more urgent variant of giving up your seat on the bus to a woman–complemented and perhaps compensated for the legal and social constraints placed on women at the time.
But in this day of the most extensive societal restructuring to grant women equality in education, in employment, in government, in athletics, in citizenship, what entitles women to the privileges–and reduces them to the status of children?
The evolutionary psychologists might say that ladies–to–the–lifeboats is an instinct that developed to perpetuate the species: women are indispensable child bearers. You can repopulate a village if the women survive and only a few of the men, but you cannot repopulate a village if the men survive and only a few of the women. Women being more precious, biologically speaking, than men, evolution has conditioned us to give them the kind of life–protecting deference we give to that other seed of the future, kids.
The problem with this kind of logic, however, is its depressing reductionism. It recapitulates in all seriousness the geneticist's old witticism that a chicken is just an egg's way of making another egg.
But humans are more than just egg layers. And chivalrous traditions are more than just disguised survival strategies. So why do we say "women and children"? Perhaps it's really "women for children". The most basic parental bond is maternal. Equal parenting is great-it has forced men to get off their duffs-but women, from breast to cradle to cuddle, can nurture in ways that men cannot. And thus, because we value children-who would deny them first crack at the lifeboats? Women should go second. The children need them.
But kiddie-centrism gets you only so far. What if there are no children on board? You are on the Titanic III, a singles cruise. No kids, no moms, no dads.
Here's my scenario. The men, out of sheer irrational gallantry, should let the women go first. And the women, out of sheer feminist self–respect, should refuse.
Result? Stalemate. How does this movie end? How should it end? Hurry, the ship's going down.

College students are preoccupied by the fact that:

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

PASSAGE – II
College students today often act as if they believed that work in large organizations, and beyond that, work in general, could not be basically satisfying (or, at times, even honest), but is primarily a way to earn a living, to find a place in the social order, and to meet nice or not–so–nice people.
The relation of education to later life should be a dialectical and critical one. If, however, one result of going to college is to become alienated from work per se and defeatist about the possibility of altering one’s relation to it, then it seems to me one ought to re–examine academic institutions themselves. 
In the spring of 1955, several hundred interviews were done (at the behest of Time magazine) with seniors at twenty colleges throughout the country, most of them colleges of distinction. The seniors were supposed to be reasonably representative, but what this was taken to mean and how it was applied at different colleges and universities varied greatly. A good many student leaders were chosen, a good many bright people, but hardly any women were included. When I first examined the interviews and now again when I have once more gone over them, I have been struck by what appears to be a not quite conscious ambivalence toward work in large organizations. Nevertheless, the majority are planning to enter large organizations in pursuit of their careers: big corporations, big governments, big law offices, and so on. Only a few seek independence in their work, either in terms of old fashioned ideals of entrepreneurship or in terms of the desire to become a foreign correspondent, to enter politics, or to follow some other individualistic or exotic calling.
And yet, when these young people are asked about their lives outside of work, a very different picture emerges. There, bigness and scale are definitely not valued. Only a tiny fraction wants to head for the metropolis, even if their careers might make such a location convenient. They want the suburbs – not later, after some bachelor independence in the big city, but now, on graduation. The great majority either is already married or plan to get married soon (even if there is no special one in mind at the moment); they plan to start having children at once and to begin building a community–centred life in the suburbs. They envisage a two–car, but usually not a two–career family, in which the prospective wife will be active in the parent– teacher association, with assistance from the husband, and in which both spouses will concern themselves with a manageable bit of real estate in a suburban neighbourhood in which they can at once be active and hope to make a difference. It does not occur to them that they might be gifted and energetic enough to make a difference even in a big city. Rather, they want to be able to work through a face–to–face group – the post collegiate fraternity of the small suburbs.
Correspondingly, the very emphasis on family life, which is one of the striking and, in so many ways, attractive qualities of young people today, is an implicit rejection of large organization. The suburban family, with its garden, its barbecue, its lack of privacy in the open–plan house, is itself a manifesto of decentralization, even though it makes use of centralized services such as television, clinics, chain stores, and House Beautiful. The wish to build a nest, even if a somewhat transient one, is a striking feature of the interviews, in contrast with the wish to build a fortune or a career, which might have dominated some comparable interviews a generation earlier.

What was the most significant observation made from the interviews that were conducted at twenty colleges throughout the country?

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

PASSAGE – II
College students today often act as if they believed that work in large organizations, and beyond that, work in general, could not be basically satisfying (or, at times, even honest), but is primarily a way to earn a living, to find a place in the social order, and to meet nice or not–so–nice people.
The relation of education to later life should be a dialectical and critical one. If, however, one result of going to college is to become alienated from work per se and defeatist about the possibility of altering one’s relation to it, then it seems to me one ought to re–examine academic institutions themselves. 
In the spring of 1955, several hundred interviews were done (at the behest of Time magazine) with seniors at twenty colleges throughout the country, most of them colleges of distinction. The seniors were supposed to be reasonably representative, but what this was taken to mean and how it was applied at different colleges and universities varied greatly. A good many student leaders were chosen, a good many bright people, but hardly any women were included. When I first examined the interviews and now again when I have once more gone over them, I have been struck by what appears to be a not quite conscious ambivalence toward work in large organizations. Nevertheless, the majority are planning to enter large organizations in pursuit of their careers: big corporations, big governments, big law offices, and so on. Only a few seek independence in their work, either in terms of old fashioned ideals of entrepreneurship or in terms of the desire to become a foreign correspondent, to enter politics, or to follow some other individualistic or exotic calling.
And yet, when these young people are asked about their lives outside of work, a very different picture emerges. There, bigness and scale are definitely not valued. Only a tiny fraction wants to head for the metropolis, even if their careers might make such a location convenient. They want the suburbs – not later, after some bachelor independence in the big city, but now, on graduation. The great majority either is already married or plan to get married soon (even if there is no special one in mind at the moment); they plan to start having children at once and to begin building a community–centred life in the suburbs. They envisage a two–car, but usually not a two–career family, in which the prospective wife will be active in the parent– teacher association, with assistance from the husband, and in which both spouses will concern themselves with a manageable bit of real estate in a suburban neighbourhood in which they can at once be active and hope to make a difference. It does not occur to them that they might be gifted and energetic enough to make a difference even in a big city. Rather, they want to be able to work through a face–to–face group – the post collegiate fraternity of the small suburbs.
Correspondingly, the very emphasis on family life, which is one of the striking and, in so many ways, attractive qualities of young people today, is an implicit rejection of large organization. The suburban family, with its garden, its barbecue, its lack of privacy in the open–plan house, is itself a manifesto of decentralization, even though it makes use of centralized services such as television, clinics, chain stores, and House Beautiful. The wish to build a nest, even if a somewhat transient one, is a striking feature of the interviews, in contrast with the wish to build a fortune or a career, which might have dominated some comparable interviews a generation earlier.

If the author is to counsel a youngster, he will go by which of the following statements?

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

PASSAGE – II
College students today often act as if they believed that work in large organizations, and beyond that, work in general, could not be basically satisfying (or, at times, even honest), but is primarily a way to earn a living, to find a place in the social order, and to meet nice or not–so–nice people.
The relation of education to later life should be a dialectical and critical one. If, however, one result of going to college is to become alienated from work per se and defeatist about the possibility of altering one’s relation to it, then it seems to me one ought to re–examine academic institutions themselves. 
In the spring of 1955, several hundred interviews were done (at the behest of Time magazine) with seniors at twenty colleges throughout the country, most of them colleges of distinction. The seniors were supposed to be reasonably representative, but what this was taken to mean and how it was applied at different colleges and universities varied greatly. A good many student leaders were chosen, a good many bright people, but hardly any women were included. When I first examined the interviews and now again when I have once more gone over them, I have been struck by what appears to be a not quite conscious ambivalence toward work in large organizations. Nevertheless, the majority are planning to enter large organizations in pursuit of their careers: big corporations, big governments, big law offices, and so on. Only a few seek independence in their work, either in terms of old fashioned ideals of entrepreneurship or in terms of the desire to become a foreign correspondent, to enter politics, or to follow some other individualistic or exotic calling.
And yet, when these young people are asked about their lives outside of work, a very different picture emerges. There, bigness and scale are definitely not valued. Only a tiny fraction wants to head for the metropolis, even if their careers might make such a location convenient. They want the suburbs – not later, after some bachelor independence in the big city, but now, on graduation. The great majority either is already married or plan to get married soon (even if there is no special one in mind at the moment); they plan to start having children at once and to begin building a community–centred life in the suburbs. They envisage a two–car, but usually not a two–career family, in which the prospective wife will be active in the parent– teacher association, with assistance from the husband, and in which both spouses will concern themselves with a manageable bit of real estate in a suburban neighbourhood in which they can at once be active and hope to make a difference. It does not occur to them that they might be gifted and energetic enough to make a difference even in a big city. Rather, they want to be able to work through a face–to–face group – the post collegiate fraternity of the small suburbs.
Correspondingly, the very emphasis on family life, which is one of the striking and, in so many ways, attractive qualities of young people today, is an implicit rejection of large organization. The suburban family, with its garden, its barbecue, its lack of privacy in the open–plan house, is itself a manifesto of decentralization, even though it makes use of centralized services such as television, clinics, chain stores, and House Beautiful. The wish to build a nest, even if a somewhat transient one, is a striking feature of the interviews, in contrast with the wish to build a fortune or a career, which might have dominated some comparable interviews a generation earlier.

The author suggests that the younger generation

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

PASSAGE – II
College students today often act as if they believed that work in large organizations, and beyond that, work in general, could not be basically satisfying (or, at times, even honest), but is primarily a way to earn a living, to find a place in the social order, and to meet nice or not–so–nice people.
The relation of education to later life should be a dialectical and critical one. If, however, one result of going to college is to become alienated from work per se and defeatist about the possibility of altering one’s relation to it, then it seems to me one ought to re–examine academic institutions themselves. 
In the spring of 1955, several hundred interviews were done (at the behest of Time magazine) with seniors at twenty colleges throughout the country, most of them colleges of distinction. The seniors were supposed to be reasonably representative, but what this was taken to mean and how it was applied at different colleges and universities varied greatly. A good many student leaders were chosen, a good many bright people, but hardly any women were included. When I first examined the interviews and now again when I have once more gone over them, I have been struck by what appears to be a not quite conscious ambivalence toward work in large organizations. Nevertheless, the majority are planning to enter large organizations in pursuit of their careers: big corporations, big governments, big law offices, and so on. Only a few seek independence in their work, either in terms of old fashioned ideals of entrepreneurship or in terms of the desire to become a foreign correspondent, to enter politics, or to follow some other individualistic or exotic calling.
And yet, when these young people are asked about their lives outside of work, a very different picture emerges. There, bigness and scale are definitely not valued. Only a tiny fraction wants to head for the metropolis, even if their careers might make such a location convenient. They want the suburbs – not later, after some bachelor independence in the big city, but now, on graduation. The great majority either is already married or plan to get married soon (even if there is no special one in mind at the moment); they plan to start having children at once and to begin building a community–centred life in the suburbs. They envisage a two–car, but usually not a two–career family, in which the prospective wife will be active in the parent– teacher association, with assistance from the husband, and in which both spouses will concern themselves with a manageable bit of real estate in a suburban neighbourhood in which they can at once be active and hope to make a difference. It does not occur to them that they might be gifted and energetic enough to make a difference even in a big city. Rather, they want to be able to work through a face–to–face group – the post collegiate fraternity of the small suburbs.
Correspondingly, the very emphasis on family life, which is one of the striking and, in so many ways, attractive qualities of young people today, is an implicit rejection of large organization. The suburban family, with its garden, its barbecue, its lack of privacy in the open–plan house, is itself a manifesto of decentralization, even though it makes use of centralized services such as television, clinics, chain stores, and House Beautiful. The wish to build a nest, even if a somewhat transient one, is a striking feature of the interviews, in contrast with the wish to build a fortune or a career, which might have dominated some comparable interviews a generation earlier.

Which is not false as per the passage?

Directions: The passage below is followed by a question based on its content. Answer the question on the basis of what is stated or implied in the passage.

PASSAGE – I
Those who scorn the idea that spooks and spectres prowl and shimmer through the world do so because no one has so far caught a ghost in a bottle, because they are sceptical by habit, or because they resist the notion that death may not be final.
For many the word "ghost" conjures up an anonymous white-robed figure, a spirit who has come back from the grave to haunt the living. But in the annals of ghostdom, spectral beings come in a variety of forms and shapes, and some never put in an appearance at all, although they make their presence felt. Ghosts also differ in behaviour - they may be aimless, purposeful, playful, angelic, and even demonic.
There are three lines of explanation for ghostly phenomena: the spiritual, mechanical, and psychological. The most firmly established is the spiritual thesis, which holds that ghosts are intelligent beings. The first version of this idea is that ghosts are the spirits of dead humans. They continue to resemble their earthly forms in appearance and dress and are found re-enacting things they did in the past, bound to their haunting grounds by guilt, remorse, desire, or habit. They may be malevolent, kindly, or indifferent toward human beings. People who take this view of ghosts regard them as marking time in a spiritual halfway house between this world and heaven, purgatory, or hell.
According to another version of the spiritual view, a ghost's resemblance to a formerly living person or animal is actually a masquerade adopted for its own purpose, the real appearance of ghosts being quite different. Some ghosts, for instance, appear as vaporous columns or clouds of light.
In the third view of ghosts as a spiritual phenomenon, these apparitions are not beings in either of the senses described above. Instead, they are illusions created by powerful classes of angelic or demonic beings for the purpose of helping or harming those who see them. Miracles are an example of intervention by angelic or enlightened powers, while most poltergeist episodes are held to be demonic.
The mechanical interpretation is that ghosts are images without substance, somehow recorded in an etherised medium and visible under certain conditions to those of a certain case of mind. This idea accords well with some frequently observed phenomena - the way some ghosts have of disappearing into thin air. It does not explain those cases where the ghost interacts intelligently with those who see it.
In the psychological view of the phenomenon, ghosts reveal a spectrum of powerful but not yet understood capacities of the human mind. In these terms, some ghosts are the product of telepathic powers, as when a relative or friend appears to another at the time of death: others - poltergeist phenomena - suggest unwitting and uncontrolled psychokinetic abilities. And some - the appearance of phantom doubles - suggest that out-of-body experiences may sometimes be manifest to others.
In fact, most believers in ghosts are probably willing to accept all of these theses as helping to explain a complex and varied phenomenon. Sceptics, on the other hand, resorting to the dry but sturdy arguments to what they consider to be commonsense, are apt to maintain that stories of ghosts are lies, hallucinations, or earnest reports of misperceptions. But the most convincing evidence of the existence of spectres still seems to be their appearance on the scene.