Questions 1-11 are based on the following passage.

The Montessori Method

The lessons are individual, and brevity must be one of their chief characteristics. Dante gives excellent advice to teachers when he says, “Let thy words be counted.” The more carefully we cut away useless words, the more perfect will become the lesson. (1)And in preparing the lessons which she is to give, the teacher must pay special attention to this point, counting and weighing the value of the words which she is to speak.

Another characteristic quality of the lesson in the “Children’s Houses” is its simplicity. It must be (2) obtained of all that is not absolute truth. That the teacher must not lose herself in vain words, is included in the first quality of (3) conciseness; this second, then, is closely related to the first: that is, the carefully chosen words must be the most simple it is possible to find, and must refer to the truth.

The third quality of the lesson is its objectivity. (4) Objectivity, opposite to subjectivity, remains essential when planning a lesson. There shall remain in evidence only the object to which she wishes to call the attention of the child. This brief and simple lesson must be considered by the teacher as an explanation of the object and of the use which the child can make of it.

(5) 1. In the giving of such lessons the fundamental guide must be the method of observation, in which is included and understood the liberty of the child. 2. And she must take great care not to offend the principles of liberty.

3.   For, if she (6) has provoken the child to make an unnatural effort, she will no longer know what is the spontaneous activity of the child. If, therefore, the lesson rigorously prepared in this brevity, simplicity, and truth is not understood by the child, is not accepted by him as an explanation of the object. The teacher must be warned of two things: first, not to insist by repeating the (7) lesson; and second, not to make the child feel that he has made a mistake, or that he is not understood. In doing so she will cause him to make an effort to understand, and will thus alter the natural state which must be used by her in making her psychological observation. A few examples may serve to illustrate this point.

Let us suppose, for example, that the teacher

(8) thinks to teach a child the two colours, red and blue. She desires (9) to attracting the attention of the child to the object. She says, therefore, “Look at this.” Then, in order to teach the colours, she says, showing him the red, “This is red,” raising her voice a little and pronouncing the word “red” slowly and clearly; then showing him the other colour, “This is blue.” (10) Losing track that the child has understood, she says to him, “Give me the red,”—”Give me the blue.” Let us suppose that the child in following this last direction makes a mistake. The teacher does not repeat and does not insist; (11) she smiles, gives the child a friendly caress and takes away the colours.

Questions 12 through 22 are based on the following passage.

Music

Music deals first of all with feeling or emotion. But since emotion may be guided by the mind and transfused by the imagination (12) since emotion is not a separate and isolated part of our being—so music may be so ordered by the mind and so transfused by the imagination as to become intellectual and imaginative. It is true that the greater part of the music produced and performed deals only with emotion, but this is equally true of literature. The popular novel is one tenth emotion, one tenth mind, and the rest imagination. (13) Moreover, it is with music, though such illogical invention as one constantly finds in many popular novels would be intolerable in any music. Since there seems to be an incongruity between the statement that music has no definite meaning and the statement that it is intellectual, (14) this leaves no room for reconciliation.

(15) We must first of all distinguish between the quality itself and the expression of the quality. A person may have a mind stored with wisdom and be completely what we call “intellectual,” without ever expressing himself by a spoken or written word. His wisdom exists by itself and for itself, entirely separated from (16) their expression. If he expresses himself, and with skill, we call that expression literature, but, in any case, it remains wisdom. And what is wisdom? It is what Mr. Eliot describes a liberal education to be—“a state of mind:” it is the fusion of

(17) knowledge with experience, with feeling, and imagination.

Now words are symbols which (18) diminish in their efficacy as they try to compass feeling and imagination. If the wise man is cold, he can say, “I am cold:” but if he wishes to tell you of his idea of God, he has no words adequate for the purpose, because he is dealing with something which is not in the domain of knowledge alone—which he can feel, or perhaps imagine, but cannot define. The reason alone never even touches the far- away circle of that perfection which we believe to exist, and the subtle inner relations between man and the visible and invisible world refuse to be harnessed to language. For these he finds expression in some form of beauty. (19) “The beautiful,” says Goethe, “is a manifestation of the secret laws of nature which, but for this appearance, had been forever concealed from us.”

So we say that in wisdom the qualities we call insight, feeling, and imagination must find for themselves some more plastic medium of expression than language. And when that plastic medium, though non-definitive, has those qualities of (20) subjectivity, continuity, and form which are essential to all intellectual expression, we are justified in calling it “intellectual.” Let us take for our specific illustration the first movement of the Ninth Symphony of Beethoven. It is impossible to imagine this as an expression of feeling only, untouched by thought or by imagination. The inevitable conclusion arrived at by any person (21) who’s understands it is that the feeling is absolutely controlled by the mind, and that it is imagination that gives it its extraordinary effect. (22)

Questions 23 through 33 are based on the following passage.

The Story of Geographical Discovery

We have seen how the Portuguese had slowly coasted along the shore of Africa during the fifteenth century in search of a way to the Indies. By the end of the century, mariners portulanos gave a rude yet (23) effective account of the littoral of Africa, both on the west and the eastern side. Not only did they explore the coast, but they settled upon (24) it, at Amina on the Guinea coast, at Loando near the Congo, and at Benguela on the western coast, they established stations from whence to despatch the gold and ivory, and, above all, the slaves, which turned out to be the chief African products of use to Europeans. On the east coast they settled at Sofala, a port of Mozambique; and in Zanzibar they possessed no less than three ports: those first visited by Vasco da Gama and (25) afterwards celebrated by Milton in the sonorous line contained in the gorgeous geographical excursus in the Eleventh Book—

“Mombaza    and    Quiloa    and    Melind.” —Paradise Lost, xi. 339.

1. It is probable that, besides settling on the coast, the Portuguese from time to time made explorations into the interior. 2. At any rate, in some maps of the sixteenth and (26) 17^th century there is shown a remarkable knowledge of the course of the Nile. 3. (27) We, which can be scarcely other than the Victoria, Albert Nyanza, and Tanganyika, see it terminated in three large lakes. 4. The Mountains of the Moon also figure prominently, and it was only almost the other day that Mr. Stanley re-discovered them.

(28) 5. It is difficult, however, to determine how far these entries on the Portuguese maps were due to actual knowledge or report, or to the traditions of a still earlier knowledge of these lakes and mountains; for in the maps accompanying the early editions of Ptolemy we likewise obtain the same information, which is repeated by the Arabic geographers, obviously from Ptolemy, and not from actual observation. 6. When the two great French cartographers Delisle and D’Anville determined not to insert anything on their maps for which they had not some evidence, these lakes and mountains disappeared, and thus it has come about that maps of the seventeenth century often appear to display more knowledge of the interior of Africa than those of the beginning of the nineteenth, at least (29) with regard to the sources of the Nile.

African exploration of the interior begins with the search for the sources of the Nile, and has been mainly concluded by the determination of the course of the three other great rivers, the Niger, the Zambesi, and the Congo. It is remarkable that all four rivers

(30) has had their course determined by persons of British nationality. The names of Bruce and Grant will always be associated with the Nile, that of Mungo Park with the Niger, Dr. Livingstone with the Zambesi, and Mr. Stanley with the Congo. It is not inappropriate that, (31) accept in the case of the Congo, England should control the course of the rivers (32) (which her sons first made accessible to civilization).

We have seen that there was an ancient tradition reported by Herodotus, that the Nile trended off to the west and became there the river Niger; while still earlier there was an impression that part of it at any rate wandered eastward, and some way joined on to the same source as the Tigris and Euphrates—at least that seems to be the (33) suggestion.