1.

Which one of the following best expresses the main idea of the passage?

For the poet Phillis Wheatley, who was brought to
colonial New England as a slave in 1761,the formal
literary code of eighteenth-century English was
thrice removed: by the initial barrier of the
(5) unfamiliar English language, by the discrepancy
between spoken and literary forms of English, and by
the African tradition of oral rather than written
verbal art. Wheatley transcended these barriers—she
learned the English language and English literary
(10) forms so quickly and well that she was composing
good poetry in English within a few years of her
arrival in New England.

Wheatley’s experience exemplifies the meeting of
oral and written literary cultures. The aesthetic
(15) principles of the African oral tradition were
preserved in America by folk artists in work songs,
dancing, field hollers, religious music, the use of
the drum, and,after the drum was forbidden,in the
perpetuation of drum effects in song. African
(20) languages and the functions of language in African
societies not only contributed to the emergence of a
distinctive Black English but also exerted
demonstrable effects on the manner in which other
Americans spoke English. Given her African
(25) heritage and her facility with English and the
conventions of English poetry, Wheatley’s work
had the potential to apply the ideas of a written
literature to an oral literary tradition in the creation
of an African American literary language.

(30) But this was a potential that her poetry
unfortunately did not exploit. The standards of
eighteenth-century English poetry, which itself
reflected little of the American language, led
Wheatley to develop a notion of poetry as a closed
(35) system, derived from imitation of earlier written
works. No place existed for the rough-and-ready
Americanized English she heard in the streets, for
the English spoken by Black people, or for
Africanisms. The conventions of eighteenth-century
(40) neoclassical poetry ruled out casual talk; her voice
and feelings had to be generalized according to
rules of poetic diction and characterization; the
particulars of her African past, if they were to be
dealt with at all, had to be subordinated to the
(45) reigning conventions. African poetry did not
count as poetry in her new situation, and African
aesthetic canons were irrelevant to the new context
because no linguistic or social framework existed to
reinforce them. Wheatley adopted a foreign
(50) language and a foreign literary tradition; they
were not extensions of her past experience, but
replacements

Thus limited by the eighteenth-century English
literary code, Wheatley’s poetry contributed little to
(55) the development of a distinctive African American
literary language. Yet by the standards of the
literary conventions in which she chose to work,
Wheatley’s poetry is undeniably accomplished, and
she is justly celebrated as the first Black American
(60) poet.

2.

The approach to poetry taken by a modern-day Italian immigrant in America would be most analogous to Phillis Wheatley’s approach, as it is described in the passage, if the immigrant

For the poet Phillis Wheatley, who was brought to
colonial New England as a slave in 1761,the formal
literary code of eighteenth-century English was
thrice removed: by the initial barrier of the
(5) unfamiliar English language, by the discrepancy
between spoken and literary forms of English, and by
the African tradition of oral rather than written
verbal art. Wheatley transcended these barriers—she
learned the English language and English literary
(10) forms so quickly and well that she was composing
good poetry in English within a few years of her
arrival in New England.

Wheatley’s experience exemplifies the meeting of
oral and written literary cultures. The aesthetic
(15) principles of the African oral tradition were
preserved in America by folk artists in work songs,
dancing, field hollers, religious music, the use of
the drum, and,after the drum was forbidden,in the
perpetuation of drum effects in song. African
(20) languages and the functions of language in African
societies not only contributed to the emergence of a
distinctive Black English but also exerted
demonstrable effects on the manner in which other
Americans spoke English. Given her African
(25) heritage and her facility with English and the
conventions of English poetry, Wheatley’s work
had the potential to apply the ideas of a written
literature to an oral literary tradition in the creation
of an African American literary language.

(30) But this was a potential that her poetry
unfortunately did not exploit. The standards of
eighteenth-century English poetry, which itself
reflected little of the American language, led
Wheatley to develop a notion of poetry as a closed
(35) system, derived from imitation of earlier written
works. No place existed for the rough-and-ready
Americanized English she heard in the streets, for
the English spoken by Black people, or for
Africanisms. The conventions of eighteenth-century
(40) neoclassical poetry ruled out casual talk; her voice
and feelings had to be generalized according to
rules of poetic diction and characterization; the
particulars of her African past, if they were to be
dealt with at all, had to be subordinated to the
(45) reigning conventions. African poetry did not
count as poetry in her new situation, and African
aesthetic canons were irrelevant to the new context
because no linguistic or social framework existed to
reinforce them. Wheatley adopted a foreign
(50) language and a foreign literary tradition; they
were not extensions of her past experience, but
replacements

Thus limited by the eighteenth-century English
literary code, Wheatley’s poetry contributed little to
(55) the development of a distinctive African American
literary language. Yet by the standards of the
literary conventions in which she chose to work,
Wheatley’s poetry is undeniably accomplished, and
she is justly celebrated as the first Black American
(60) poet.

3.

According to the passage, African languages had a notable influence on

For the poet Phillis Wheatley, who was brought to
colonial New England as a slave in 1761,the formal
literary code of eighteenth-century English was
thrice removed: by the initial barrier of the
(5) unfamiliar English language, by the discrepancy
between spoken and literary forms of English, and by
the African tradition of oral rather than written
verbal art. Wheatley transcended these barriers—she
learned the English language and English literary
(10) forms so quickly and well that she was composing
good poetry in English within a few years of her
arrival in New England.

Wheatley’s experience exemplifies the meeting of
oral and written literary cultures. The aesthetic
(15) principles of the African oral tradition were
preserved in America by folk artists in work songs,
dancing, field hollers, religious music, the use of
the drum, and,after the drum was forbidden,in the
perpetuation of drum effects in song. African
(20) languages and the functions of language in African
societies not only contributed to the emergence of a
distinctive Black English but also exerted
demonstrable effects on the manner in which other
Americans spoke English. Given her African
(25) heritage and her facility with English and the
conventions of English poetry, Wheatley’s work
had the potential to apply the ideas of a written
literature to an oral literary tradition in the creation
of an African American literary language.

(30) But this was a potential that her poetry
unfortunately did not exploit. The standards of
eighteenth-century English poetry, which itself
reflected little of the American language, led
Wheatley to develop a notion of poetry as a closed
(35) system, derived from imitation of earlier written
works. No place existed for the rough-and-ready
Americanized English she heard in the streets, for
the English spoken by Black people, or for
Africanisms. The conventions of eighteenth-century
(40) neoclassical poetry ruled out casual talk; her voice
and feelings had to be generalized according to
rules of poetic diction and characterization; the
particulars of her African past, if they were to be
dealt with at all, had to be subordinated to the
(45) reigning conventions. African poetry did not
count as poetry in her new situation, and African
aesthetic canons were irrelevant to the new context
because no linguistic or social framework existed to
reinforce them. Wheatley adopted a foreign
(50) language and a foreign literary tradition; they
were not extensions of her past experience, but
replacements

Thus limited by the eighteenth-century English
literary code, Wheatley’s poetry contributed little to
(55) the development of a distinctive African American
literary language. Yet by the standards of the
literary conventions in which she chose to work,
Wheatley’s poetry is undeniably accomplished, and
she is justly celebrated as the first Black American
(60) poet.

4.

By a “closed system” of poetry (lines 34–35), the author most probably means poetry that

For the poet Phillis Wheatley, who was brought to
colonial New England as a slave in 1761,the formal
literary code of eighteenth-century English was
thrice removed: by the initial barrier of the
(5) unfamiliar English language, by the discrepancy
between spoken and literary forms of English, and by
the African tradition of oral rather than written
verbal art. Wheatley transcended these barriers—she
learned the English language and English literary
(10) forms so quickly and well that she was composing
good poetry in English within a few years of her
arrival in New England.

Wheatley’s experience exemplifies the meeting of
oral and written literary cultures. The aesthetic
(15) principles of the African oral tradition were
preserved in America by folk artists in work songs,
dancing, field hollers, religious music, the use of
the drum, and,after the drum was forbidden,in the
perpetuation of drum effects in song. African
(20) languages and the functions of language in African
societies not only contributed to the emergence of a
distinctive Black English but also exerted
demonstrable effects on the manner in which other
Americans spoke English. Given her African
(25) heritage and her facility with English and the
conventions of English poetry, Wheatley’s work
had the potential to apply the ideas of a written
literature to an oral literary tradition in the creation
of an African American literary language.

(30) But this was a potential that her poetry
unfortunately did not exploit. The standards of
eighteenth-century English poetry, which itself
reflected little of the American language, led
Wheatley to develop a notion of poetry as a closed
(35) system, derived from imitation of earlier written
works. No place existed for the rough-and-ready
Americanized English she heard in the streets, for
the English spoken by Black people, or for
Africanisms. The conventions of eighteenth-century
(40) neoclassical poetry ruled out casual talk; her voice
and feelings had to be generalized according to
rules of poetic diction and characterization; the
particulars of her African past, if they were to be
dealt with at all, had to be subordinated to the
(45) reigning conventions. African poetry did not
count as poetry in her new situation, and African
aesthetic canons were irrelevant to the new context
because no linguistic or social framework existed to
reinforce them. Wheatley adopted a foreign
(50) language and a foreign literary tradition; they
were not extensions of her past experience, but
replacements

Thus limited by the eighteenth-century English
literary code, Wheatley’s poetry contributed little to
(55) the development of a distinctive African American
literary language. Yet by the standards of the
literary conventions in which she chose to work,
Wheatley’s poetry is undeniably accomplished, and
she is justly celebrated as the first Black American
(60) poet.

5.

According to the passage, the standards of eighteenth-century English poetry permitted Wheatley to include which one of the following in her poetry?

For the poet Phillis Wheatley, who was brought to
colonial New England as a slave in 1761,the formal
literary code of eighteenth-century English was
thrice removed: by the initial barrier of the
(5) unfamiliar English language, by the discrepancy
between spoken and literary forms of English, and by
the African tradition of oral rather than written
verbal art. Wheatley transcended these barriers—she
learned the English language and English literary
(10) forms so quickly and well that she was composing
good poetry in English within a few years of her
arrival in New England.

Wheatley’s experience exemplifies the meeting of
oral and written literary cultures. The aesthetic
(15) principles of the African oral tradition were
preserved in America by folk artists in work songs,
dancing, field hollers, religious music, the use of
the drum, and,after the drum was forbidden,in the
perpetuation of drum effects in song. African
(20) languages and the functions of language in African
societies not only contributed to the emergence of a
distinctive Black English but also exerted
demonstrable effects on the manner in which other
Americans spoke English. Given her African
(25) heritage and her facility with English and the
conventions of English poetry, Wheatley’s work
had the potential to apply the ideas of a written
literature to an oral literary tradition in the creation
of an African American literary language.

(30) But this was a potential that her poetry
unfortunately did not exploit. The standards of
eighteenth-century English poetry, which itself
reflected little of the American language, led
Wheatley to develop a notion of poetry as a closed
(35) system, derived from imitation of earlier written
works. No place existed for the rough-and-ready
Americanized English she heard in the streets, for
the English spoken by Black people, or for
Africanisms. The conventions of eighteenth-century
(40) neoclassical poetry ruled out casual talk; her voice
and feelings had to be generalized according to
rules of poetic diction and characterization; the
particulars of her African past, if they were to be
dealt with at all, had to be subordinated to the
(45) reigning conventions. African poetry did not
count as poetry in her new situation, and African
aesthetic canons were irrelevant to the new context
because no linguistic or social framework existed to
reinforce them. Wheatley adopted a foreign
(50) language and a foreign literary tradition; they
were not extensions of her past experience, but
replacements

Thus limited by the eighteenth-century English
literary code, Wheatley’s poetry contributed little to
(55) the development of a distinctive African American
literary language. Yet by the standards of the
literary conventions in which she chose to work,
Wheatley’s poetry is undeniably accomplished, and
she is justly celebrated as the first Black American
(60) poet.

6.

Which one of the following, if true, would most weaken the author’s argument concerning the role that Wheatley played in the evolution of an African American literary language?

For the poet Phillis Wheatley, who was brought to
colonial New England as a slave in 1761,the formal
literary code of eighteenth-century English was
thrice removed: by the initial barrier of the
(5) unfamiliar English language, by the discrepancy
between spoken and literary forms of English, and by
the African tradition of oral rather than written
verbal art. Wheatley transcended these barriers—she
learned the English language and English literary
(10) forms so quickly and well that she was composing
good poetry in English within a few years of her
arrival in New England.

Wheatley’s experience exemplifies the meeting of
oral and written literary cultures. The aesthetic
(15) principles of the African oral tradition were
preserved in America by folk artists in work songs,
dancing, field hollers, religious music, the use of
the drum, and,after the drum was forbidden,in the
perpetuation of drum effects in song. African
(20) languages and the functions of language in African
societies not only contributed to the emergence of a
distinctive Black English but also exerted
demonstrable effects on the manner in which other
Americans spoke English. Given her African
(25) heritage and her facility with English and the
conventions of English poetry, Wheatley’s work
had the potential to apply the ideas of a written
literature to an oral literary tradition in the creation
of an African American literary language.

(30) But this was a potential that her poetry
unfortunately did not exploit. The standards of
eighteenth-century English poetry, which itself
reflected little of the American language, led
Wheatley to develop a notion of poetry as a closed
(35) system, derived from imitation of earlier written
works. No place existed for the rough-and-ready
Americanized English she heard in the streets, for
the English spoken by Black people, or for
Africanisms. The conventions of eighteenth-century
(40) neoclassical poetry ruled out casual talk; her voice
and feelings had to be generalized according to
rules of poetic diction and characterization; the
particulars of her African past, if they were to be
dealt with at all, had to be subordinated to the
(45) reigning conventions. African poetry did not
count as poetry in her new situation, and African
aesthetic canons were irrelevant to the new context
because no linguistic or social framework existed to
reinforce them. Wheatley adopted a foreign
(50) language and a foreign literary tradition; they
were not extensions of her past experience, but
replacements

Thus limited by the eighteenth-century English
literary code, Wheatley’s poetry contributed little to
(55) the development of a distinctive African American
literary language. Yet by the standards of the
literary conventions in which she chose to work,
Wheatley’s poetry is undeniably accomplished, and
she is justly celebrated as the first Black American
(60) poet.

7.

It can be inferred that the author of the passage would most probably have praised Phillis Wheatley’s poetry more if it had

For the poet Phillis Wheatley, who was brought to
colonial New England as a slave in 1761,the formal
literary code of eighteenth-century English was
thrice removed: by the initial barrier of the
(5) unfamiliar English language, by the discrepancy
between spoken and literary forms of English, and by
the African tradition of oral rather than written
verbal art. Wheatley transcended these barriers—she
learned the English language and English literary
(10) forms so quickly and well that she was composing
good poetry in English within a few years of her
arrival in New England.

Wheatley’s experience exemplifies the meeting of
oral and written literary cultures. The aesthetic
(15) principles of the African oral tradition were
preserved in America by folk artists in work songs,
dancing, field hollers, religious music, the use of
the drum, and,after the drum was forbidden,in the
perpetuation of drum effects in song. African
(20) languages and the functions of language in African
societies not only contributed to the emergence of a
distinctive Black English but also exerted
demonstrable effects on the manner in which other
Americans spoke English. Given her African
(25) heritage and her facility with English and the
conventions of English poetry, Wheatley’s work
had the potential to apply the ideas of a written
literature to an oral literary tradition in the creation
of an African American literary language.

(30) But this was a potential that her poetry
unfortunately did not exploit. The standards of
eighteenth-century English poetry, which itself
reflected little of the American language, led
Wheatley to develop a notion of poetry as a closed
(35) system, derived from imitation of earlier written
works. No place existed for the rough-and-ready
Americanized English she heard in the streets, for
the English spoken by Black people, or for
Africanisms. The conventions of eighteenth-century
(40) neoclassical poetry ruled out casual talk; her voice
and feelings had to be generalized according to
rules of poetic diction and characterization; the
particulars of her African past, if they were to be
dealt with at all, had to be subordinated to the
(45) reigning conventions. African poetry did not
count as poetry in her new situation, and African
aesthetic canons were irrelevant to the new context
because no linguistic or social framework existed to
reinforce them. Wheatley adopted a foreign
(50) language and a foreign literary tradition; they
were not extensions of her past experience, but
replacements

Thus limited by the eighteenth-century English
literary code, Wheatley’s poetry contributed little to
(55) the development of a distinctive African American
literary language. Yet by the standards of the
literary conventions in which she chose to work,
Wheatley’s poetry is undeniably accomplished, and
she is justly celebrated as the first Black American
(60) poet.

8.

Which one of the following most accurately characterizes the author’s attitude with respect to Phillis Wheatley’s literary accomplishments?

For the poet Phillis Wheatley, who was brought to
colonial New England as a slave in 1761,the formal
literary code of eighteenth-century English was
thrice removed: by the initial barrier of the
(5) unfamiliar English language, by the discrepancy
between spoken and literary forms of English, and by
the African tradition of oral rather than written
verbal art. Wheatley transcended these barriers—she
learned the English language and English literary
(10) forms so quickly and well that she was composing
good poetry in English within a few years of her
arrival in New England.

Wheatley’s experience exemplifies the meeting of
oral and written literary cultures. The aesthetic
(15) principles of the African oral tradition were
preserved in America by folk artists in work songs,
dancing, field hollers, religious music, the use of
the drum, and,after the drum was forbidden,in the
perpetuation of drum effects in song. African
(20) languages and the functions of language in African
societies not only contributed to the emergence of a
distinctive Black English but also exerted
demonstrable effects on the manner in which other
Americans spoke English. Given her African
(25) heritage and her facility with English and the
conventions of English poetry, Wheatley’s work
had the potential to apply the ideas of a written
literature to an oral literary tradition in the creation
of an African American literary language.

(30) But this was a potential that her poetry
unfortunately did not exploit. The standards of
eighteenth-century English poetry, which itself
reflected little of the American language, led
Wheatley to develop a notion of poetry as a closed
(35) system, derived from imitation of earlier written
works. No place existed for the rough-and-ready
Americanized English she heard in the streets, for
the English spoken by Black people, or for
Africanisms. The conventions of eighteenth-century
(40) neoclassical poetry ruled out casual talk; her voice
and feelings had to be generalized according to
rules of poetic diction and characterization; the
particulars of her African past, if they were to be
dealt with at all, had to be subordinated to the
(45) reigning conventions. African poetry did not
count as poetry in her new situation, and African
aesthetic canons were irrelevant to the new context
because no linguistic or social framework existed to
reinforce them. Wheatley adopted a foreign
(50) language and a foreign literary tradition; they
were not extensions of her past experience, but
replacements

Thus limited by the eighteenth-century English
literary code, Wheatley’s poetry contributed little to
(55) the development of a distinctive African American
literary language. Yet by the standards of the
literary conventions in which she chose to work,
Wheatley’s poetry is undeniably accomplished, and
she is justly celebrated as the first Black American
(60) poet.

9.

Which one of the following best states the central idea of the passage?

Onescientific discipline, during its early stages of
development, is often related to another as an
antithesis to its thesis. The thesis discipline tends to
concern itself with discovery and classification of
(5) phenomena,to offer holistic explanations
emphasizing pattern and form, and to use existing
theory to explain the widest possible range of
phenomena.The paired or antidiscipline, on the
other hand, can be characterized by a more focused
(10) approach, concentrating on the units of construction,
and by abelief that the discipline can be
reformulated in terms of the issues and explanations
of the antidiscipline.

The relationship of cytology (cell biology) to
(15) biochemistry in the late nineteenth century, when
both disciplines were growing at a rapid pace,
exemplifies such a pattern. Researchers in cell
biology found mounting evidence of an intricate cell
architecture. They also deduced the mysterious
(20) choreography of the chromosomes during cell
division. Many biochemists, on the other hand,
remained skeptical of the idea that so much structure
existed, arguing that the chemical reactions that
occur in cytological preparations might create the
(25) appearance of such structures. Also, they stood apart
from the debate then raging over whether
protoplasm, the complex of living material within a
cell, is homogeneous, network-like, granular, or
foamlike. Their interest lay in the more
(30) “fundamental”issues of the chemical nature of
protoplasm, especially the newly formulated enzyme
theory of life.

In general, biochemists judged to be
too ignorant of chemistry to grasp the basic
(35) processes, whereas cytologists considered the
methods of biochemists inadequate to characterize
the structures of the living cell. The renewal of
Mendelian genetics and, later, progress in
chromosome mapping did little at first to effect a
(40) synthesis.

Both sides were essentially correct. Biochemistry
has more than justified its extravagant early claims
by explaining so much of the cellular machinery. But
in achieving this feat (mostly since 1950) it has been
(45) partially transformed into the new discipline of
molecular biology—biochemistry that deals with
spatial arrangements and movements of large
molecules. At the same time cytology has
metamorphosed into modern cellular biology.Aided
(50) by electron microscopy, it has become more similar
in language and outlook to molecular biology. The
interaction of a discipline and its antidiscipline has
moved both sciences toward a synthesis, namely
molecular genetics.

(55) This interaction between paired disciplines can
have important results. In the case of late nineteenth
century cell research, progress was fueled by
competition among the various attitudes and issues
derived from cell biology and biochemistry. Joseph
(60) Fruton, a biochemist, has suggested that such
competition and the resulting tensions among
researchers are a principal source of vitality and “are
likely to lead to unexpected and exciting novelties
in the future, as they have in the past.”

10.

The passage states that in the late nineteenth century cytologists deduced the

Onescientific discipline, during its early stages of
development, is often related to another as an
antithesis to its thesis. The thesis discipline tends to
concern itself with discovery and classification of
(5) phenomena,to offer holistic explanations
emphasizing pattern and form, and to use existing
theory to explain the widest possible range of
phenomena.The paired or antidiscipline, on the
other hand, can be characterized by a more focused
(10) approach, concentrating on the units of construction,
and by abelief that the discipline can be
reformulated in terms of the issues and explanations
of the antidiscipline.

The relationship of cytology (cell biology) to
(15) biochemistry in the late nineteenth century, when
both disciplines were growing at a rapid pace,
exemplifies such a pattern. Researchers in cell
biology found mounting evidence of an intricate cell
architecture. They also deduced the mysterious
(20) choreography of the chromosomes during cell
division. Many biochemists, on the other hand,
remained skeptical of the idea that so much structure
existed, arguing that the chemical reactions that
occur in cytological preparations might create the
(25) appearance of such structures. Also, they stood apart
from the debate then raging over whether
protoplasm, the complex of living material within a
cell, is homogeneous, network-like, granular, or
foamlike. Their interest lay in the more
(30) “fundamental”issues of the chemical nature of
protoplasm, especially the newly formulated enzyme
theory of life.

In general, biochemists judged to be
too ignorant of chemistry to grasp the basic
(35) processes, whereas cytologists considered the
methods of biochemists inadequate to characterize
the structures of the living cell. The renewal of
Mendelian genetics and, later, progress in
chromosome mapping did little at first to effect a
(40) synthesis.

Both sides were essentially correct. Biochemistry
has more than justified its extravagant early claims
by explaining so much of the cellular machinery. But
in achieving this feat (mostly since 1950) it has been
(45) partially transformed into the new discipline of
molecular biology—biochemistry that deals with
spatial arrangements and movements of large
molecules. At the same time cytology has
metamorphosed into modern cellular biology.Aided
(50) by electron microscopy, it has become more similar
in language and outlook to molecular biology. The
interaction of a discipline and its antidiscipline has
moved both sciences toward a synthesis, namely
molecular genetics.

(55) This interaction between paired disciplines can
have important results. In the case of late nineteenth
century cell research, progress was fueled by
competition among the various attitudes and issues
derived from cell biology and biochemistry. Joseph
(60) Fruton, a biochemist, has suggested that such
competition and the resulting tensions among
researchers are a principal source of vitality and “are
likely to lead to unexpected and exciting novelties
in the future, as they have in the past.”

11.

It can be inferred from the passage that in the late nineteenth century the debate over the structural nature of protoplasm (lines 25–29) was most likely carried on

Onescientific discipline, during its early stages of
development, is often related to another as an
antithesis to its thesis. The thesis discipline tends to
concern itself with discovery and classification of
(5) phenomena,to offer holistic explanations
emphasizing pattern and form, and to use existing
theory to explain the widest possible range of
phenomena.The paired or antidiscipline, on the
other hand, can be characterized by a more focused
(10) approach, concentrating on the units of construction,
and by abelief that the discipline can be
reformulated in terms of the issues and explanations
of the antidiscipline.

The relationship of cytology (cell biology) to
(15) biochemistry in the late nineteenth century, when
both disciplines were growing at a rapid pace,
exemplifies such a pattern. Researchers in cell
biology found mounting evidence of an intricate cell
architecture. They also deduced the mysterious
(20) choreography of the chromosomes during cell
division. Many biochemists, on the other hand,
remained skeptical of the idea that so much structure
existed, arguing that the chemical reactions that
occur in cytological preparations might create the
(25) appearance of such structures. Also, they stood apart
from the debate then raging over whether
protoplasm, the complex of living material within a
cell, is homogeneous, network-like, granular, or
foamlike. Their interest lay in the more
(30) “fundamental”issues of the chemical nature of
protoplasm, especially the newly formulated enzyme
theory of life.

In general, biochemists judged to be
too ignorant of chemistry to grasp the basic
(35) processes, whereas cytologists considered the
methods of biochemists inadequate to characterize
the structures of the living cell. The renewal of
Mendelian genetics and, later, progress in
chromosome mapping did little at first to effect a
(40) synthesis.

Both sides were essentially correct. Biochemistry
has more than justified its extravagant early claims
by explaining so much of the cellular machinery. But
in achieving this feat (mostly since 1950) it has been
(45) partially transformed into the new discipline of
molecular biology—biochemistry that deals with
spatial arrangements and movements of large
molecules. At the same time cytology has
metamorphosed into modern cellular biology.Aided
(50) by electron microscopy, it has become more similar
in language and outlook to molecular biology. The
interaction of a discipline and its antidiscipline has
moved both sciences toward a synthesis, namely
molecular genetics.

(55) This interaction between paired disciplines can
have important results. In the case of late nineteenth
century cell research, progress was fueled by
competition among the various attitudes and issues
derived from cell biology and biochemistry. Joseph
(60) Fruton, a biochemist, has suggested that such
competition and the resulting tensions among
researchers are a principal source of vitality and “are
likely to lead to unexpected and exciting novelties
in the future, as they have in the past.”

12.

According to the passage, cytologists in the late nineteenth century were critical of the cell research of biochemists because cytologists believed that

Onescientific discipline, during its early stages of
development, is often related to another as an
antithesis to its thesis. The thesis discipline tends to
concern itself with discovery and classification of
(5) phenomena,to offer holistic explanations
emphasizing pattern and form, and to use existing
theory to explain the widest possible range of
phenomena.The paired or antidiscipline, on the
other hand, can be characterized by a more focused
(10) approach, concentrating on the units of construction,
and by abelief that the discipline can be
reformulated in terms of the issues and explanations
of the antidiscipline.

The relationship of cytology (cell biology) to
(15) biochemistry in the late nineteenth century, when
both disciplines were growing at a rapid pace,
exemplifies such a pattern. Researchers in cell
biology found mounting evidence of an intricate cell
architecture. They also deduced the mysterious
(20) choreography of the chromosomes during cell
division. Many biochemists, on the other hand,
remained skeptical of the idea that so much structure
existed, arguing that the chemical reactions that
occur in cytological preparations might create the
(25) appearance of such structures. Also, they stood apart
from the debate then raging over whether
protoplasm, the complex of living material within a
cell, is homogeneous, network-like, granular, or
foamlike. Their interest lay in the more
(30) “fundamental”issues of the chemical nature of
protoplasm, especially the newly formulated enzyme
theory of life.

In general, biochemists judged to be
too ignorant of chemistry to grasp the basic
(35) processes, whereas cytologists considered the
methods of biochemists inadequate to characterize
the structures of the living cell. The renewal of
Mendelian genetics and, later, progress in
chromosome mapping did little at first to effect a
(40) synthesis.

Both sides were essentially correct. Biochemistry
has more than justified its extravagant early claims
by explaining so much of the cellular machinery. But
in achieving this feat (mostly since 1950) it has been
(45) partially transformed into the new discipline of
molecular biology—biochemistry that deals with
spatial arrangements and movements of large
molecules. At the same time cytology has
metamorphosed into modern cellular biology.Aided
(50) by electron microscopy, it has become more similar
in language and outlook to molecular biology. The
interaction of a discipline and its antidiscipline has
moved both sciences toward a synthesis, namely
molecular genetics.

(55) This interaction between paired disciplines can
have important results. In the case of late nineteenth
century cell research, progress was fueled by
competition among the various attitudes and issues
derived from cell biology and biochemistry. Joseph
(60) Fruton, a biochemist, has suggested that such
competition and the resulting tensions among
researchers are a principal source of vitality and “are
likely to lead to unexpected and exciting novelties
in the future, as they have in the past.”

13.

The author quotes Fruton (lines 62–64) primarily in order to

Onescientific discipline, during its early stages of
development, is often related to another as an
antithesis to its thesis. The thesis discipline tends to
concern itself with discovery and classification of
(5) phenomena,to offer holistic explanations
emphasizing pattern and form, and to use existing
theory to explain the widest possible range of
phenomena.The paired or antidiscipline, on the
other hand, can be characterized by a more focused
(10) approach, concentrating on the units of construction,
and by abelief that the discipline can be
reformulated in terms of the issues and explanations
of the antidiscipline.

The relationship of cytology (cell biology) to
(15) biochemistry in the late nineteenth century, when
both disciplines were growing at a rapid pace,
exemplifies such a pattern. Researchers in cell
biology found mounting evidence of an intricate cell
architecture. They also deduced the mysterious
(20) choreography of the chromosomes during cell
division. Many biochemists, on the other hand,
remained skeptical of the idea that so much structure
existed, arguing that the chemical reactions that
occur in cytological preparations might create the
(25) appearance of such structures. Also, they stood apart
from the debate then raging over whether
protoplasm, the complex of living material within a
cell, is homogeneous, network-like, granular, or
foamlike. Their interest lay in the more
(30) “fundamental”issues of the chemical nature of
protoplasm, especially the newly formulated enzyme
theory of life.

In general, biochemists judged to be
too ignorant of chemistry to grasp the basic
(35) processes, whereas cytologists considered the
methods of biochemists inadequate to characterize
the structures of the living cell. The renewal of
Mendelian genetics and, later, progress in
chromosome mapping did little at first to effect a
(40) synthesis.

Both sides were essentially correct. Biochemistry
has more than justified its extravagant early claims
by explaining so much of the cellular machinery. But
in achieving this feat (mostly since 1950) it has been
(45) partially transformed into the new discipline of
molecular biology—biochemistry that deals with
spatial arrangements and movements of large
molecules. At the same time cytology has
metamorphosed into modern cellular biology.Aided
(50) by electron microscopy, it has become more similar
in language and outlook to molecular biology. The
interaction of a discipline and its antidiscipline has
moved both sciences toward a synthesis, namely
molecular genetics.

(55) This interaction between paired disciplines can
have important results. In the case of late nineteenth
century cell research, progress was fueled by
competition among the various attitudes and issues
derived from cell biology and biochemistry. Joseph
(60) Fruton, a biochemist, has suggested that such
competition and the resulting tensions among
researchers are a principal source of vitality and “are
likely to lead to unexpected and exciting novelties
in the future, as they have in the past.”

14.

Which one of the following inferences about when the enzyme theory of life was formulated can be drawn from the passage?

Onescientific discipline, during its early stages of
development, is often related to another as an
antithesis to its thesis. The thesis discipline tends to
concern itself with discovery and classification of
(5) phenomena,to offer holistic explanations
emphasizing pattern and form, and to use existing
theory to explain the widest possible range of
phenomena.The paired or antidiscipline, on the
other hand, can be characterized by a more focused
(10) approach, concentrating on the units of construction,
and by abelief that the discipline can be
reformulated in terms of the issues and explanations
of the antidiscipline.

The relationship of cytology (cell biology) to
(15) biochemistry in the late nineteenth century, when
both disciplines were growing at a rapid pace,
exemplifies such a pattern. Researchers in cell
biology found mounting evidence of an intricate cell
architecture. They also deduced the mysterious
(20) choreography of the chromosomes during cell
division. Many biochemists, on the other hand,
remained skeptical of the idea that so much structure
existed, arguing that the chemical reactions that
occur in cytological preparations might create the
(25) appearance of such structures. Also, they stood apart
from the debate then raging over whether
protoplasm, the complex of living material within a
cell, is homogeneous, network-like, granular, or
foamlike. Their interest lay in the more
(30) “fundamental”issues of the chemical nature of
protoplasm, especially the newly formulated enzyme
theory of life.

In general, biochemists judged to be
too ignorant of chemistry to grasp the basic
(35) processes, whereas cytologists considered the
methods of biochemists inadequate to characterize
the structures of the living cell. The renewal of
Mendelian genetics and, later, progress in
chromosome mapping did little at first to effect a
(40) synthesis.

Both sides were essentially correct. Biochemistry
has more than justified its extravagant early claims
by explaining so much of the cellular machinery. But
in achieving this feat (mostly since 1950) it has been
(45) partially transformed into the new discipline of
molecular biology—biochemistry that deals with
spatial arrangements and movements of large
molecules. At the same time cytology has
metamorphosed into modern cellular biology.Aided
(50) by electron microscopy, it has become more similar
in language and outlook to molecular biology. The
interaction of a discipline and its antidiscipline has
moved both sciences toward a synthesis, namely
molecular genetics.

(55) This interaction between paired disciplines can
have important results. In the case of late nineteenth
century cell research, progress was fueled by
competition among the various attitudes and issues
derived from cell biology and biochemistry. Joseph
(60) Fruton, a biochemist, has suggested that such
competition and the resulting tensions among
researchers are a principal source of vitality and “are
likely to lead to unexpected and exciting novelties
in the future, as they have in the past.”

15.

Which one of the following statements about cells is most compatible with the views of late nineteenth- century biochemists as those views are described in the passage?

Onescientific discipline, during its early stages of
development, is often related to another as an
antithesis to its thesis. The thesis discipline tends to
concern itself with discovery and classification of
(5) phenomena,to offer holistic explanations
emphasizing pattern and form, and to use existing
theory to explain the widest possible range of
phenomena.The paired or antidiscipline, on the
other hand, can be characterized by a more focused
(10) approach, concentrating on the units of construction,
and by abelief that the discipline can be
reformulated in terms of the issues and explanations
of the antidiscipline.

The relationship of cytology (cell biology) to
(15) biochemistry in the late nineteenth century, when
both disciplines were growing at a rapid pace,
exemplifies such a pattern. Researchers in cell
biology found mounting evidence of an intricate cell
architecture. They also deduced the mysterious
(20) choreography of the chromosomes during cell
division. Many biochemists, on the other hand,
remained skeptical of the idea that so much structure
existed, arguing that the chemical reactions that
occur in cytological preparations might create the
(25) appearance of such structures. Also, they stood apart
from the debate then raging over whether
protoplasm, the complex of living material within a
cell, is homogeneous, network-like, granular, or
foamlike. Their interest lay in the more
(30) “fundamental”issues of the chemical nature of
protoplasm, especially the newly formulated enzyme
theory of life.

In general, biochemists judged to be
too ignorant of chemistry to grasp the basic
(35) processes, whereas cytologists considered the
methods of biochemists inadequate to characterize
the structures of the living cell. The renewal of
Mendelian genetics and, later, progress in
chromosome mapping did little at first to effect a
(40) synthesis.

Both sides were essentially correct. Biochemistry
has more than justified its extravagant early claims
by explaining so much of the cellular machinery. But
in achieving this feat (mostly since 1950) it has been
(45) partially transformed into the new discipline of
molecular biology—biochemistry that deals with
spatial arrangements and movements of large
molecules. At the same time cytology has
metamorphosed into modern cellular biology.Aided
(50) by electron microscopy, it has become more similar
in language and outlook to molecular biology. The
interaction of a discipline and its antidiscipline has
moved both sciences toward a synthesis, namely
molecular genetics.

(55) This interaction between paired disciplines can
have important results. In the case of late nineteenth
century cell research, progress was fueled by
competition among the various attitudes and issues
derived from cell biology and biochemistry. Joseph
(60) Fruton, a biochemist, has suggested that such
competition and the resulting tensions among
researchers are a principal source of vitality and “are
likely to lead to unexpected and exciting novelties
in the future, as they have in the past.”

16.

Which one of the following best describes the organization of the material presented in the passage?

Onescientific discipline, during its early stages of
development, is often related to another as an
antithesis to its thesis. The thesis discipline tends to
concern itself with discovery and classification of
(5) phenomena,to offer holistic explanations
emphasizing pattern and form, and to use existing
theory to explain the widest possible range of
phenomena.The paired or antidiscipline, on the
other hand, can be characterized by a more focused
(10) approach, concentrating on the units of construction,
and by abelief that the discipline can be
reformulated in terms of the issues and explanations
of the antidiscipline.

The relationship of cytology (cell biology) to
(15) biochemistry in the late nineteenth century, when
both disciplines were growing at a rapid pace,
exemplifies such a pattern. Researchers in cell
biology found mounting evidence of an intricate cell
architecture. They also deduced the mysterious
(20) choreography of the chromosomes during cell
division. Many biochemists, on the other hand,
remained skeptical of the idea that so much structure
existed, arguing that the chemical reactions that
occur in cytological preparations might create the
(25) appearance of such structures. Also, they stood apart
from the debate then raging over whether
protoplasm, the complex of living material within a
cell, is homogeneous, network-like, granular, or
foamlike. Their interest lay in the more
(30) “fundamental”issues of the chemical nature of
protoplasm, especially the newly formulated enzyme
theory of life.

In general, biochemists judged to be
too ignorant of chemistry to grasp the basic
(35) processes, whereas cytologists considered the
methods of biochemists inadequate to characterize
the structures of the living cell. The renewal of
Mendelian genetics and, later, progress in
chromosome mapping did little at first to effect a
(40) synthesis.

Both sides were essentially correct. Biochemistry
has more than justified its extravagant early claims
by explaining so much of the cellular machinery. But
in achieving this feat (mostly since 1950) it has been
(45) partially transformed into the new discipline of
molecular biology—biochemistry that deals with
spatial arrangements and movements of large
molecules. At the same time cytology has
metamorphosed into modern cellular biology.Aided
(50) by electron microscopy, it has become more similar
in language and outlook to molecular biology. The
interaction of a discipline and its antidiscipline has
moved both sciences toward a synthesis, namely
molecular genetics.

(55) This interaction between paired disciplines can
have important results. In the case of late nineteenth
century cell research, progress was fueled by
competition among the various attitudes and issues
derived from cell biology and biochemistry. Joseph
(60) Fruton, a biochemist, has suggested that such
competition and the resulting tensions among
researchers are a principal source of vitality and “are
likely to lead to unexpected and exciting novelties
in the future, as they have in the past.”

17.

It can be inferred from the passage that the crucial factor in a trial under the adversarial system is

There are two major systems of criminal
procedure in the modern world—the adversarial and
the inquisitorial. Both systems were historically
preceded by the system of private vengeance in which
(5) the victim of a crime fashioned a remedy and
administered it privately, either personally or
through an agent.

The modern adversarial system is only one
historical step removed from the private vengeance
(10) system and still retains some of its characteristic
features. For example, even though the right to
initiate legal action against a criminal has now been
extended to all members of society (as represented by
the office of the public prosecutor), and even though
(15) the police department has effectively assumed the
pretrial investigative functions on behalf of the
prosecution, the adversarial system still leaves the
defendant to conduct his or her own pretrial
investigation. The trial is viewed as a forensic duel
(20) between two adversaries, presided over by a judge
who, at the start, has no knowledge of the
investigative background of the case. In the final
analysis the adversarial system of criminal procedure
symbolizes and regularizes punitive combat.

(25) By contrast, the inquisitorial system begins
historically where the adversarial system stopped its
development. It is two historical steps removed from
the system of private vengeance. From the standpoint
of legal anthropology, then, it is historically superior
(30) to the adversarial system. Under the inquisitorial
system, the public prosecutor has the duty to
investigate not just on behalf of society but also on
behalf of the defendant. Additionally, the public
prosecutor has the duty to present the court not only
(35) evidence that would convict the defendant, but also
evidence that could prove the defendant’s innocence.
The system mandates that both parties permit full
pretrial discovery of the evidence in their possession.
Finally, an aspect of the system that makes the trial
(40) less like a duel between two adversarial parties is that
the inquisitorial system mandates that the judge take
an active part in the conduct of the trial, with a role
that is both directive and protective.

Fact-finding is at the heart of the inquisitorial
(45) system. This system operates on the philosophical
premise that in a criminal action the crucial factor is
the body of facts, not the legal rule (in contrast to the
adversarial system), and the goal of the entire
procedure is to attempt to recreate, in the mind of the
(50) court, the commission of the alleged crime.
Because of the inquisitorial system’s thoroughness
in conducting its pretrial investigation, it can be
concluded that, if given the choice, a defendant who
is innocent would prefer to be tried under the
(55) inquisitorial system, whereas a defendant who is
guilty would prefer to be tried under the adversarial
system.

18.

The author sees the judge’s primary role in a trial under the inquisitorial system as that of

There are two major systems of criminal
procedure in the modern world—the adversarial and
the inquisitorial. Both systems were historically
preceded by the system of private vengeance in which
(5) the victim of a crime fashioned a remedy and
administered it privately, either personally or
through an agent.

The modern adversarial system is only one
historical step removed from the private vengeance
(10) system and still retains some of its characteristic
features. For example, even though the right to
initiate legal action against a criminal has now been
extended to all members of society (as represented by
the office of the public prosecutor), and even though
(15) the police department has effectively assumed the
pretrial investigative functions on behalf of the
prosecution, the adversarial system still leaves the
defendant to conduct his or her own pretrial
investigation. The trial is viewed as a forensic duel
(20) between two adversaries, presided over by a judge
who, at the start, has no knowledge of the
investigative background of the case. In the final
analysis the adversarial system of criminal procedure
symbolizes and regularizes punitive combat.

(25) By contrast, the inquisitorial system begins
historically where the adversarial system stopped its
development. It is two historical steps removed from
the system of private vengeance. From the standpoint
of legal anthropology, then, it is historically superior
(30) to the adversarial system. Under the inquisitorial
system, the public prosecutor has the duty to
investigate not just on behalf of society but also on
behalf of the defendant. Additionally, the public
prosecutor has the duty to present the court not only
(35) evidence that would convict the defendant, but also
evidence that could prove the defendant’s innocence.
The system mandates that both parties permit full
pretrial discovery of the evidence in their possession.
Finally, an aspect of the system that makes the trial
(40) less like a duel between two adversarial parties is that
the inquisitorial system mandates that the judge take
an active part in the conduct of the trial, with a role
that is both directive and protective.

Fact-finding is at the heart of the inquisitorial
(45) system. This system operates on the philosophical
premise that in a criminal action the crucial factor is
the body of facts, not the legal rule (in contrast to the
adversarial system), and the goal of the entire
procedure is to attempt to recreate, in the mind of the
(50) court, the commission of the alleged crime.
Because of the inquisitorial system’s thoroughness
in conducting its pretrial investigation, it can be
concluded that, if given the choice, a defendant who
is innocent would prefer to be tried under the
(55) inquisitorial system, whereas a defendant who is
guilty would prefer to be tried under the adversarial
system.

19.

According to the passage, a central distinction between the system of private vengeance and the two modern criminal procedure systems was the shift in responsibility for initiating legal action against a criminal from the

There are two major systems of criminal
procedure in the modern world—the adversarial and
the inquisitorial. Both systems were historically
preceded by the system of private vengeance in which
(5) the victim of a crime fashioned a remedy and
administered it privately, either personally or
through an agent.

The modern adversarial system is only one
historical step removed from the private vengeance
(10) system and still retains some of its characteristic
features. For example, even though the right to
initiate legal action against a criminal has now been
extended to all members of society (as represented by
the office of the public prosecutor), and even though
(15) the police department has effectively assumed the
pretrial investigative functions on behalf of the
prosecution, the adversarial system still leaves the
defendant to conduct his or her own pretrial
investigation. The trial is viewed as a forensic duel
(20) between two adversaries, presided over by a judge
who, at the start, has no knowledge of the
investigative background of the case. In the final
analysis the adversarial system of criminal procedure
symbolizes and regularizes punitive combat.

(25) By contrast, the inquisitorial system begins
historically where the adversarial system stopped its
development. It is two historical steps removed from
the system of private vengeance. From the standpoint
of legal anthropology, then, it is historically superior
(30) to the adversarial system. Under the inquisitorial
system, the public prosecutor has the duty to
investigate not just on behalf of society but also on
behalf of the defendant. Additionally, the public
prosecutor has the duty to present the court not only
(35) evidence that would convict the defendant, but also
evidence that could prove the defendant’s innocence.
The system mandates that both parties permit full
pretrial discovery of the evidence in their possession.
Finally, an aspect of the system that makes the trial
(40) less like a duel between two adversarial parties is that
the inquisitorial system mandates that the judge take
an active part in the conduct of the trial, with a role
that is both directive and protective.

Fact-finding is at the heart of the inquisitorial
(45) system. This system operates on the philosophical
premise that in a criminal action the crucial factor is
the body of facts, not the legal rule (in contrast to the
adversarial system), and the goal of the entire
procedure is to attempt to recreate, in the mind of the
(50) court, the commission of the alleged crime.
Because of the inquisitorial system’s thoroughness
in conducting its pretrial investigation, it can be
concluded that, if given the choice, a defendant who
is innocent would prefer to be tried under the
(55) inquisitorial system, whereas a defendant who is
guilty would prefer to be tried under the adversarial
system.

20.

All of the following are characteristics of the inquisitorial system that the author cites EXCEPT:

There are two major systems of criminal
procedure in the modern world—the adversarial and
the inquisitorial. Both systems were historically
preceded by the system of private vengeance in which
(5) the victim of a crime fashioned a remedy and
administered it privately, either personally or
through an agent.

The modern adversarial system is only one
historical step removed from the private vengeance
(10) system and still retains some of its characteristic
features. For example, even though the right to
initiate legal action against a criminal has now been
extended to all members of society (as represented by
the office of the public prosecutor), and even though
(15) the police department has effectively assumed the
pretrial investigative functions on behalf of the
prosecution, the adversarial system still leaves the
defendant to conduct his or her own pretrial
investigation. The trial is viewed as a forensic duel
(20) between two adversaries, presided over by a judge
who, at the start, has no knowledge of the
investigative background of the case. In the final
analysis the adversarial system of criminal procedure
symbolizes and regularizes punitive combat.

(25) By contrast, the inquisitorial system begins
historically where the adversarial system stopped its
development. It is two historical steps removed from
the system of private vengeance. From the standpoint
of legal anthropology, then, it is historically superior
(30) to the adversarial system. Under the inquisitorial
system, the public prosecutor has the duty to
investigate not just on behalf of society but also on
behalf of the defendant. Additionally, the public
prosecutor has the duty to present the court not only
(35) evidence that would convict the defendant, but also
evidence that could prove the defendant’s innocence.
The system mandates that both parties permit full
pretrial discovery of the evidence in their possession.
Finally, an aspect of the system that makes the trial
(40) less like a duel between two adversarial parties is that
the inquisitorial system mandates that the judge take
an active part in the conduct of the trial, with a role
that is both directive and protective.

Fact-finding is at the heart of the inquisitorial
(45) system. This system operates on the philosophical
premise that in a criminal action the crucial factor is
the body of facts, not the legal rule (in contrast to the
adversarial system), and the goal of the entire
procedure is to attempt to recreate, in the mind of the
(50) court, the commission of the alleged crime.
Because of the inquisitorial system’s thoroughness
in conducting its pretrial investigation, it can be
concluded that, if given the choice, a defendant who
is innocent would prefer to be tried under the
(55) inquisitorial system, whereas a defendant who is
guilty would prefer to be tried under the adversarial
system.

21.

The author’s attitude toward the inquisitorial system can best be described as

There are two major systems of criminal
procedure in the modern world—the adversarial and
the inquisitorial. Both systems were historically
preceded by the system of private vengeance in which
(5) the victim of a crime fashioned a remedy and
administered it privately, either personally or
through an agent.

The modern adversarial system is only one
historical step removed from the private vengeance
(10) system and still retains some of its characteristic
features. For example, even though the right to
initiate legal action against a criminal has now been
extended to all members of society (as represented by
the office of the public prosecutor), and even though
(15) the police department has effectively assumed the
pretrial investigative functions on behalf of the
prosecution, the adversarial system still leaves the
defendant to conduct his or her own pretrial
investigation. The trial is viewed as a forensic duel
(20) between two adversaries, presided over by a judge
who, at the start, has no knowledge of the
investigative background of the case. In the final
analysis the adversarial system of criminal procedure
symbolizes and regularizes punitive combat.

(25) By contrast, the inquisitorial system begins
historically where the adversarial system stopped its
development. It is two historical steps removed from
the system of private vengeance. From the standpoint
of legal anthropology, then, it is historically superior
(30) to the adversarial system. Under the inquisitorial
system, the public prosecutor has the duty to
investigate not just on behalf of society but also on
behalf of the defendant. Additionally, the public
prosecutor has the duty to present the court not only
(35) evidence that would convict the defendant, but also
evidence that could prove the defendant’s innocence.
The system mandates that both parties permit full
pretrial discovery of the evidence in their possession.
Finally, an aspect of the system that makes the trial
(40) less like a duel between two adversarial parties is that
the inquisitorial system mandates that the judge take
an active part in the conduct of the trial, with a role
that is both directive and protective.

Fact-finding is at the heart of the inquisitorial
(45) system. This system operates on the philosophical
premise that in a criminal action the crucial factor is
the body of facts, not the legal rule (in contrast to the
adversarial system), and the goal of the entire
procedure is to attempt to recreate, in the mind of the
(50) court, the commission of the alleged crime.
Because of the inquisitorial system’s thoroughness
in conducting its pretrial investigation, it can be
concluded that, if given the choice, a defendant who
is innocent would prefer to be tried under the
(55) inquisitorial system, whereas a defendant who is
guilty would prefer to be tried under the adversarial
system.

22.

According to the author, which one of the following is required in order that one be a professional?

Outside the medical profession, there are various
efforts to cut medicine down to size: not only
widespread malpractice litigation and massive
governmental regulation, but also attempts by
(5) consumer groups and others to redefine medicine as a
trade rather than as a profession, and the physician
as merely a technician for hire under contract. Why
should physicians (or indeed all sensible people)
resist such efforts to give the practice of medicine a
(10) new meaning? We can gain some illumination from
etymology. “Trade,” from Germanic and Anglo
Saxon roots meaning “a course or pathway,” has
come to mean derivatively a habitual occupation and
has been related to certain skills and crafts. On the
(15) other hand, while “profession” today also entails a
habit of work, the word “profession” itself traces to
an act of selfconscious and public—even
confessional—speech. “To profess” preserves the
meaning of its Latin source, “to declare publicly; to
(20) announce, affirm, avow.” A profession is an activity
or occupation to which its practitioner publicly
professes, that is, confesses, devotion. But public
announcement seems insufficient; publicly declaring
devotion to plumbing or auto repair would not turn
(25) these trades into professions.

Some believe that learning and knowledge are the
diagnostic signs of a profession. For reasons probably
linked to the medieval university, the term
“profession” has been applied to the so-called
(30) learned professions—medicine, law, and
theology—the practices of which are founded upon
inquiry and knowledge rather than mere “know
how.” Yet it is not only the pursuit and acquisition of
knowledge that makes one a professional. The
(35) knowledge involved makes the profession one of the
learned variety, but its professional quality is rooted
in something else.

Some mistakenly seek to locate that something
else in the prestige and honor accorded professionals
(40) by society, evidenced in their special titles and the
special deference and privileges they receive. But
externalities do not constitute medicine a profession.
Physicians are not professionals because they are
honored; rather, they are honored because of their
(45) profession. Their titles and the respect they are
shown superficially signify and acknowledge
something deeper, that physicians are persons of
the professional sort, knowingly and freely devoting
themselves to a way of life worthy of such devotion.
(50) Just as lawyers devote themselves to rectifying
injustices, looking up to what is lawful and right; just
as teachers devote themselves to the education of the
young, looking up to truth and wisdom; so
physicians heal the sick, looking up to health and
(55) wholesomeness. Being a professional is thus rooted in
our moral nature and in that which warrants and
impels making a public confession to a way of life.

Professing oneself a professional is an ethical act
because it is not a silent and private act, but an
(60) articulated and public one; because it promises
continuing devotion to a way of life, not merely
announces a present preference or a way to a
livelihood; because it is an activity in service to some
high good that insists on devotion; because it is
(65) difficult and demanding. A profession engages one’s
character and heart, not merely one’s mind and
hands.

23.

Which one of the following best expresses the main point made by the author in the passage?

Outside the medical profession, there are various
efforts to cut medicine down to size: not only
widespread malpractice litigation and massive
governmental regulation, but also attempts by
(5) consumer groups and others to redefine medicine as a
trade rather than as a profession, and the physician
as merely a technician for hire under contract. Why
should physicians (or indeed all sensible people)
resist such efforts to give the practice of medicine a
(10) new meaning? We can gain some illumination from
etymology. “Trade,” from Germanic and Anglo
Saxon roots meaning “a course or pathway,” has
come to mean derivatively a habitual occupation and
has been related to certain skills and crafts. On the
(15) other hand, while “profession” today also entails a
habit of work, the word “profession” itself traces to
an act of selfconscious and public—even
confessional—speech. “To profess” preserves the
meaning of its Latin source, “to declare publicly; to
(20) announce, affirm, avow.” A profession is an activity
or occupation to which its practitioner publicly
professes, that is, confesses, devotion. But public
announcement seems insufficient; publicly declaring
devotion to plumbing or auto repair would not turn
(25) these trades into professions.

Some believe that learning and knowledge are the
diagnostic signs of a profession. For reasons probably
linked to the medieval university, the term
“profession” has been applied to the so-called
(30) learned professions—medicine, law, and
theology—the practices of which are founded upon
inquiry and knowledge rather than mere “know
how.” Yet it is not only the pursuit and acquisition of
knowledge that makes one a professional. The
(35) knowledge involved makes the profession one of the
learned variety, but its professional quality is rooted
in something else.

Some mistakenly seek to locate that something
else in the prestige and honor accorded professionals
(40) by society, evidenced in their special titles and the
special deference and privileges they receive. But
externalities do not constitute medicine a profession.
Physicians are not professionals because they are
honored; rather, they are honored because of their
(45) profession. Their titles and the respect they are
shown superficially signify and acknowledge
something deeper, that physicians are persons of
the professional sort, knowingly and freely devoting
themselves to a way of life worthy of such devotion.
(50) Just as lawyers devote themselves to rectifying
injustices, looking up to what is lawful and right; just
as teachers devote themselves to the education of the
young, looking up to truth and wisdom; so
physicians heal the sick, looking up to health and
(55) wholesomeness. Being a professional is thus rooted in
our moral nature and in that which warrants and
impels making a public confession to a way of life.

Professing oneself a professional is an ethical act
because it is not a silent and private act, but an
(60) articulated and public one; because it promises
continuing devotion to a way of life, not merely
announces a present preference or a way to a
livelihood; because it is an activity in service to some
high good that insists on devotion; because it is
(65) difficult and demanding. A profession engages one’s
character and heart, not merely one’s mind and
hands.

24.

The question posed by the author in lines 7–10 of the passage introduces which one of the following?

Outside the medical profession, there are various
efforts to cut medicine down to size: not only
widespread malpractice litigation and massive
governmental regulation, but also attempts by
(5) consumer groups and others to redefine medicine as a
trade rather than as a profession, and the physician
as merely a technician for hire under contract. Why
should physicians (or indeed all sensible people)
resist such efforts to give the practice of medicine a
(10) new meaning? We can gain some illumination from
etymology. “Trade,” from Germanic and Anglo
Saxon roots meaning “a course or pathway,” has
come to mean derivatively a habitual occupation and
has been related to certain skills and crafts. On the
(15) other hand, while “profession” today also entails a
habit of work, the word “profession” itself traces to
an act of selfconscious and public—even
confessional—speech. “To profess” preserves the
meaning of its Latin source, “to declare publicly; to
(20) announce, affirm, avow.” A profession is an activity
or occupation to which its practitioner publicly
professes, that is, confesses, devotion. But public
announcement seems insufficient; publicly declaring
devotion to plumbing or auto repair would not turn
(25) these trades into professions.

Some believe that learning and knowledge are the
diagnostic signs of a profession. For reasons probably
linked to the medieval university, the term
“profession” has been applied to the so-called
(30) learned professions—medicine, law, and
theology—the practices of which are founded upon
inquiry and knowledge rather than mere “know
how.” Yet it is not only the pursuit and acquisition of
knowledge that makes one a professional. The
(35) knowledge involved makes the profession one of the
learned variety, but its professional quality is rooted
in something else.

Some mistakenly seek to locate that something
else in the prestige and honor accorded professionals
(40) by society, evidenced in their special titles and the
special deference and privileges they receive. But
externalities do not constitute medicine a profession.
Physicians are not professionals because they are
honored; rather, they are honored because of their
(45) profession. Their titles and the respect they are
shown superficially signify and acknowledge
something deeper, that physicians are persons of
the professional sort, knowingly and freely devoting
themselves to a way of life worthy of such devotion.
(50) Just as lawyers devote themselves to rectifying
injustices, looking up to what is lawful and right; just
as teachers devote themselves to the education of the
young, looking up to truth and wisdom; so
physicians heal the sick, looking up to health and
(55) wholesomeness. Being a professional is thus rooted in
our moral nature and in that which warrants and
impels making a public confession to a way of life.

Professing oneself a professional is an ethical act
because it is not a silent and private act, but an
(60) articulated and public one; because it promises
continuing devotion to a way of life, not merely
announces a present preference or a way to a
livelihood; because it is an activity in service to some
high good that insists on devotion; because it is
(65) difficult and demanding. A profession engages one’s
character and heart, not merely one’s mind and
hands.

25.

In the passage, the author mentions or suggests all of the following EXCEPT

Outside the medical profession, there are various
efforts to cut medicine down to size: not only
widespread malpractice litigation and massive
governmental regulation, but also attempts by
(5) consumer groups and others to redefine medicine as a
trade rather than as a profession, and the physician
as merely a technician for hire under contract. Why
should physicians (or indeed all sensible people)
resist such efforts to give the practice of medicine a
(10) new meaning? We can gain some illumination from
etymology. “Trade,” from Germanic and Anglo
Saxon roots meaning “a course or pathway,” has
come to mean derivatively a habitual occupation and
has been related to certain skills and crafts. On the
(15) other hand, while “profession” today also entails a
habit of work, the word “profession” itself traces to
an act of selfconscious and public—even
confessional—speech. “To profess” preserves the
meaning of its Latin source, “to declare publicly; to
(20) announce, affirm, avow.” A profession is an activity
or occupation to which its practitioner publicly
professes, that is, confesses, devotion. But public
announcement seems insufficient; publicly declaring
devotion to plumbing or auto repair would not turn
(25) these trades into professions.

Some believe that learning and knowledge are the
diagnostic signs of a profession. For reasons probably
linked to the medieval university, the term
“profession” has been applied to the so-called
(30) learned professions—medicine, law, and
theology—the practices of which are founded upon
inquiry and knowledge rather than mere “know
how.” Yet it is not only the pursuit and acquisition of
knowledge that makes one a professional. The
(35) knowledge involved makes the profession one of the
learned variety, but its professional quality is rooted
in something else.

Some mistakenly seek to locate that something
else in the prestige and honor accorded professionals
(40) by society, evidenced in their special titles and the
special deference and privileges they receive. But
externalities do not constitute medicine a profession.
Physicians are not professionals because they are
honored; rather, they are honored because of their
(45) profession. Their titles and the respect they are
shown superficially signify and acknowledge
something deeper, that physicians are persons of
the professional sort, knowingly and freely devoting
themselves to a way of life worthy of such devotion.
(50) Just as lawyers devote themselves to rectifying
injustices, looking up to what is lawful and right; just
as teachers devote themselves to the education of the
young, looking up to truth and wisdom; so
physicians heal the sick, looking up to health and
(55) wholesomeness. Being a professional is thus rooted in
our moral nature and in that which warrants and
impels making a public confession to a way of life.

Professing oneself a professional is an ethical act
because it is not a silent and private act, but an
(60) articulated and public one; because it promises
continuing devotion to a way of life, not merely
announces a present preference or a way to a
livelihood; because it is an activity in service to some
high good that insists on devotion; because it is
(65) difficult and demanding. A profession engages one’s
character and heart, not merely one’s mind and
hands.

26.

The author’s attitude towards professionals is best described as

Outside the medical profession, there are various
efforts to cut medicine down to size: not only
widespread malpractice litigation and massive
governmental regulation, but also attempts by
(5) consumer groups and others to redefine medicine as a
trade rather than as a profession, and the physician
as merely a technician for hire under contract. Why
should physicians (or indeed all sensible people)
resist such efforts to give the practice of medicine a
(10) new meaning? We can gain some illumination from
etymology. “Trade,” from Germanic and Anglo
Saxon roots meaning “a course or pathway,” has
come to mean derivatively a habitual occupation and
has been related to certain skills and crafts. On the
(15) other hand, while “profession” today also entails a
habit of work, the word “profession” itself traces to
an act of selfconscious and public—even
confessional—speech. “To profess” preserves the
meaning of its Latin source, “to declare publicly; to
(20) announce, affirm, avow.” A profession is an activity
or occupation to which its practitioner publicly
professes, that is, confesses, devotion. But public
announcement seems insufficient; publicly declaring
devotion to plumbing or auto repair would not turn
(25) these trades into professions.

Some believe that learning and knowledge are the
diagnostic signs of a profession. For reasons probably
linked to the medieval university, the term
“profession” has been applied to the so-called
(30) learned professions—medicine, law, and
theology—the practices of which are founded upon
inquiry and knowledge rather than mere “know
how.” Yet it is not only the pursuit and acquisition of
knowledge that makes one a professional. The
(35) knowledge involved makes the profession one of the
learned variety, but its professional quality is rooted
in something else.

Some mistakenly seek to locate that something
else in the prestige and honor accorded professionals
(40) by society, evidenced in their special titles and the
special deference and privileges they receive. But
externalities do not constitute medicine a profession.
Physicians are not professionals because they are
honored; rather, they are honored because of their
(45) profession. Their titles and the respect they are
shown superficially signify and acknowledge
something deeper, that physicians are persons of
the professional sort, knowingly and freely devoting
themselves to a way of life worthy of such devotion.
(50) Just as lawyers devote themselves to rectifying
injustices, looking up to what is lawful and right; just
as teachers devote themselves to the education of the
young, looking up to truth and wisdom; so
physicians heal the sick, looking up to health and
(55) wholesomeness. Being a professional is thus rooted in
our moral nature and in that which warrants and
impels making a public confession to a way of life.

Professing oneself a professional is an ethical act
because it is not a silent and private act, but an
(60) articulated and public one; because it promises
continuing devotion to a way of life, not merely
announces a present preference or a way to a
livelihood; because it is an activity in service to some
high good that insists on devotion; because it is
(65) difficult and demanding. A profession engages one’s
character and heart, not merely one’s mind and
hands.

27.

Based on the information in the passage, it can be inferred that which one of the following would most logically begin a paragraph immediately following the passage?

Outside the medical profession, there are various
efforts to cut medicine down to size: not only
widespread malpractice litigation and massive
governmental regulation, but also attempts by
(5) consumer groups and others to redefine medicine as a
trade rather than as a profession, and the physician
as merely a technician for hire under contract. Why
should physicians (or indeed all sensible people)
resist such efforts to give the practice of medicine a
(10) new meaning? We can gain some illumination from
etymology. “Trade,” from Germanic and Anglo
Saxon roots meaning “a course or pathway,” has
come to mean derivatively a habitual occupation and
has been related to certain skills and crafts. On the
(15) other hand, while “profession” today also entails a
habit of work, the word “profession” itself traces to
an act of selfconscious and public—even
confessional—speech. “To profess” preserves the
meaning of its Latin source, “to declare publicly; to
(20) announce, affirm, avow.” A profession is an activity
or occupation to which its practitioner publicly
professes, that is, confesses, devotion. But public
announcement seems insufficient; publicly declaring
devotion to plumbing or auto repair would not turn
(25) these trades into professions.

Some believe that learning and knowledge are the
diagnostic signs of a profession. For reasons probably
linked to the medieval university, the term
“profession” has been applied to the so-called
(30) learned professions—medicine, law, and
theology—the practices of which are founded upon
inquiry and knowledge rather than mere “know
how.” Yet it is not only the pursuit and acquisition of
knowledge that makes one a professional. The
(35) knowledge involved makes the profession one of the
learned variety, but its professional quality is rooted
in something else.

Some mistakenly seek to locate that something
else in the prestige and honor accorded professionals
(40) by society, evidenced in their special titles and the
special deference and privileges they receive. But
externalities do not constitute medicine a profession.
Physicians are not professionals because they are
honored; rather, they are honored because of their
(45) profession. Their titles and the respect they are
shown superficially signify and acknowledge
something deeper, that physicians are persons of
the professional sort, knowingly and freely devoting
themselves to a way of life worthy of such devotion.
(50) Just as lawyers devote themselves to rectifying
injustices, looking up to what is lawful and right; just
as teachers devote themselves to the education of the
young, looking up to truth and wisdom; so
physicians heal the sick, looking up to health and
(55) wholesomeness. Being a professional is thus rooted in
our moral nature and in that which warrants and
impels making a public confession to a way of life.

Professing oneself a professional is an ethical act
because it is not a silent and private act, but an
(60) articulated and public one; because it promises
continuing devotion to a way of life, not merely
announces a present preference or a way to a
livelihood; because it is an activity in service to some
high good that insists on devotion; because it is
(65) difficult and demanding. A profession engages one’s
character and heart, not merely one’s mind and
hands.

28.

Which one of the following best describes the author’s purpose in lines 18–42 of the passage?

Outside the medical profession, there are various
efforts to cut medicine down to size: not only
widespread malpractice litigation and massive
governmental regulation, but also attempts by
(5) consumer groups and others to redefine medicine as a
trade rather than as a profession, and the physician
as merely a technician for hire under contract. Why
should physicians (or indeed all sensible people)
resist such efforts to give the practice of medicine a
(10) new meaning? We can gain some illumination from
etymology. “Trade,” from Germanic and Anglo
Saxon roots meaning “a course or pathway,” has
come to mean derivatively a habitual occupation and
has been related to certain skills and crafts. On the
(15) other hand, while “profession” today also entails a
habit of work, the word “profession” itself traces to
an act of selfconscious and public—even
confessional—speech. “To profess” preserves the
meaning of its Latin source, “to declare publicly; to
(20) announce, affirm, avow.” A profession is an activity
or occupation to which its practitioner publicly
professes, that is, confesses, devotion. But public
announcement seems insufficient; publicly declaring
devotion to plumbing or auto repair would not turn
(25) these trades into professions.

Some believe that learning and knowledge are the
diagnostic signs of a profession. For reasons probably
linked to the medieval university, the term
“profession” has been applied to the so-called
(30) learned professions—medicine, law, and
theology—the practices of which are founded upon
inquiry and knowledge rather than mere “know
how.” Yet it is not only the pursuit and acquisition of
knowledge that makes one a professional. The
(35) knowledge involved makes the profession one of the
learned variety, but its professional quality is rooted
in something else.

Some mistakenly seek to locate that something
else in the prestige and honor accorded professionals
(40) by society, evidenced in their special titles and the
special deference and privileges they receive. But
externalities do not constitute medicine a profession.
Physicians are not professionals because they are
honored; rather, they are honored because of their
(45) profession. Their titles and the respect they are
shown superficially signify and acknowledge
something deeper, that physicians are persons of
the professional sort, knowingly and freely devoting
themselves to a way of life worthy of such devotion.
(50) Just as lawyers devote themselves to rectifying
injustices, looking up to what is lawful and right; just
as teachers devote themselves to the education of the
young, looking up to truth and wisdom; so
physicians heal the sick, looking up to health and
(55) wholesomeness. Being a professional is thus rooted in
our moral nature and in that which warrants and
impels making a public confession to a way of life.

Professing oneself a professional is an ethical act
because it is not a silent and private act, but an
(60) articulated and public one; because it promises
continuing devotion to a way of life, not merely
announces a present preference or a way to a
livelihood; because it is an activity in service to some
high good that insists on devotion; because it is
(65) difficult and demanding. A profession engages one’s
character and heart, not merely one’s mind and
hands.