Educational planning should aim at meeting the educational needs
of the entire population of all age group. While the traditional structure of
education as a three layer hierarchy from the primary stage to the university
represents the core, we should not overlook the periphery which is equally
important. Under modern conditions, workers need to rewind, or renew their
enthusiasm, or strike out in a new direction, or improve their skills as much
as any university professor. The retired and the age have their needs as well.
Educational planning, in their words, should take care of the needs of
everyone.
Our structures of education have been built up on the
assumption that there is a terminal point to education. This basic defect has
become all the more harmful today. A UNESCO report entitled ‘learning to Be’
prepared by Edgar Faure and others in 1973 asserts that the education of
children must prepare the future adult for various forms of self – learning. A
viable education system of the future should consist of modules with different
kinds of functions serving a diversity of constituents. And performance, not
the period of study, should be the basis for credentials. The writing is
already on the wall.
In view of the fact that the significance of a commitment of
lifelong learning and lifetime education is being discussed only in recent years
even in educationally advanced countries, the possibility of the idea becoming
an integral part of educational thinking seems to be a far cry. For, to move in
that direction means such more than some simple rearrangement of the present
organization of education. But a good beginning can be made by developing Open
University programs for older learners of different categories and introducing
extension services in the conventional colleges and schools. Also these
institutions should learn to cooperate with the numerous community
organizations such as libraries. Museums, municipal recreational programs,
health services etc.
According to the passage,
the present education structures assume which of the following?
What are good parts of our civilization? First and fore-most there are
order and safety. If today I have a quarrel with another man, I do not get
beaten merely because I am physically weaker and he can knock me down. I go to
law and the law will decide as fairly as it can between the two of us. Thus in
disputes between man and man. Right has taken the place might. More-over, the
law protects me from robbery and violence. Nobody may came and break into my
house, steal my books or run off with my children. Of course, there are
burglars, but they are very rare and the law punishes them whenever it catches
them.
It is difficult for us to realize how much this safety means. Without
safety those higher activates of mankind which make up civilization could not
go on. The inventor could not invent, the scientist find out or the artist make
beautiful things. Hence, order and safety, although they are not themselves
civilization, are things without which civilization could be impossible. They
are as necessary to our civilization as the air we breathe is to us; and we
have grown so used to them that we do not notice them any more than we notice
the air.
According to the writer, man does not notice order and safety as:
At the time Jane Austen’s novels
were published – between 1811 and 1818 – English literature was not part of any
academic curriculum. In addition, fiction was under strenuous attack. Certain
religious and political groups felt novels had the power to make so-called
immoral characters so interesting that young readers would identify with them;
these groups also considered novels to be of little practical use. Even
Coleridge, certainly no literary reactionary, spoke for many when the asserted
that “novel-reading occasions the destruction of the mind’s powers.”
These attitudes towards novels help
explain why Austen received little attention from early nineteenth-century
literary cities. (In any case a novelist published anonymously, as Austen was,
would not be likely to receive much critical attention.) The literary response
that was accorded to her, however, was often as incisive as twentieth-century
criticism. In his attack in 1816 on novelistic portrayals “outside of ordinary experience,”
for example. Scott made an insightful remark about the merits of Austen’s
fiction.
Her novels, wrote Scott, “present to
the reader an accurate and exact picture of ordinary everyday people and
places, reminiscent of seventeenth-century Flemish painting.” Scott did not use
the word ‘realism’, but he undoubtedly used a standard of realistic probability
in judging novels. The critic Whately did not use the word ‘realism’, either,
but he expressed agreement with Scott’s evaluation, and went on to suggest the possibilities
for moral instruction in what we have called Austen’s ‘realistic method’ her
characters, wrote Whately, are persuasive agents for moral truth since they are
ordinary persons “so clearly evoked that we feel an interest in their fate as
if it were our own.” Moral instruction, explained Whately, is more likely to be
effective when conveyed through recongnizably human and interesting characters
than when imparted by a sermonizing narrator. Whitely especially praised Austen’s
ability to create character who “mingle goodness and villainy, weakness and
virtue, as in life they are always mingled. “Whitely concluded his remarks by
comparing Austen’s art of characterization to Dickens’, starting his preference
for Austen’s.
Yet, the response of
nineteenth-century literary critics to Austen was not always so laudatory, and
often anticipated the reservations of twentieth-century literary critics. An
example of such a response was Lewes complaint in 1859 that Austen’s range of
subject and characters was too narrow. Praising her verisimilitude, Lewes added
that, nonetheless her focus was too often only upon the unlofty and the
commonplace. (Twentieth-century Marxists, on the other hand, were to complain
about what they saw as her exclusive emphasis on a lofty upper middle class.)
In any case having being rescued by literary critics from neglect and indeed
gradually lionized by them, Austen steadily reached, by the mid-nineteenth
century, the enviable pinnacle of being considered controversial.
The passage suggest that twentieth-century
Marxists would have admired Jane Austen’s novels more if the novels, as the
Marxists understood them, had
The history of literature really began was the earliest of
the arts. Man danced for joy round his primitive camp fire after the defeat and
slaughter of his enemy. He yelled and shouted as he danced and gradually the
yells and shouts became coherent and caught the measure of the coherent and
caught the measure of the dance and thus the first war song was sung. As the
idea of God developed prayers were framed. The songs and prayers became
traditional and were repeated from one generation to another, each generation
adding something of its own. As man slowly grew more civilized, he was
compelled to invent some method of writing by three urgent necessities. There
were certain things that it was dangerous to forget and which, therefore, had
to be recorded. It was often necessary to communicate with person who were some
distance away and it was necessary to protect one’s property by making tools,
cattle and so on, in some distinctive manner. So man taught himself to write
and having learned to write purely for utilitarian reasons he used this new
method for preserving his war songs and his prayers. Of course, among these
ancient peoples, There were only a very few individuals who learned to write,
and only a few could read what was written.
As for the war songs and prayers and prayers each generation
When her grandmother’s health began to deteriorate in the
fall of 1994, Mary would make the drive from Washington, DC to Winchester every
few days.
She hated highway driving, finding it ugly and monotonous. She
preferred to take meandering back roads to her grandmother’s hospital. When she
drove through the rocky town of Harpers Ferry, the beauty of the rough waters
churning at the intersection of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers always
captivated her.
Toward the end of her journey, Mary had to get on highway
81. It was here that she discovered a surprising bit of beauty during one of
her trips. Along the median of the highway, there was a long stretch of
wildflowers. They were thin and delicate and purple, and swayed in the wind as
if whispering poems to each other.
The first time she saw the flowers, Mary was seized by an uncontrollable
urge to pull over on the highway and yank a bunch from the soil. She carried
them into her grandmother’s room when she arrived at the hospital and placed
them in a water pitcher by her bed. For a moment her grandmother seemed more
lucid than usual. She thanked Mary for the flowers, commented on their beauty
and asked where she had gotten them. Mary was overjoyed by the ability of the
flowers to wake something up inside her ailing grandmother.
Afterwards, Mary began carrying scissors in the car during
her trips to visit her grandmother. She would quickly glide onto the shoulder,
jump out of the car, and clip a bunch of flowers. Each time Mary placed the
flowers in the pitcher, her grandmother’s eyes would light up and they would
have a splendid conversation.
One morning in late October, Mary got a call that her
grandmother had taken a turn for the worse. Mary was in such a hurry to get to
her grandmother that she sped past her flower spot. She decided to turn around
head several miles back, and cut a bunch. Mary arrived at the hospital to find her
grandmother very weak and unresponsive. She placed flowers in the pitcher and
sat down. She felt a squeeze on her fingers. It was the last conversation they
had.
“She hated highway driving, finding it ugly and monotonous.”
Which of the following is the best way to rewrite the above
sentence, while keeping its original meaning?
The public distribution system, which provides food at low
prices, is a subject of vital concern. There is a growing realization that
thought Pakistan has enough food to feed its masses three square meals a day,
the monster of starvation and food insecurity continues to haunt the poor in
our country.
Increasing the purchasing power of the poor through
providing productive employment leading to rising income, and thus good standard
of living is the ultimate objective of public policy. However, till then, there
is a need to provide assured supply of food through a restructured more
efficient and decentralized public distribution system (PDS).
Although the PDS is extensive – it is one of the largest
such systems in the world – it has yet to reach the rural poor and the far off
places. It remains an urban phenomenon, with the majority of the rural poor
still out of its reach due to lack of economic and physical access. The poorest
in the cities and the migrants are left out, for they generally do not possess
ration cards. The allocation of PDS supplies in big cities is larger than in
rural areas. In view of such deficiencies in the system, the PDS urgently needs
to be streamlined. In addition, considering the large food grains production
combined with food subsidy on one hand and the continuing slow starvation and dismal
poverty of the rural population on the other, there is a strong case for making
PDS target group oriented.
The growing salaried class is provided job security, regular
income, and percent insulation against inflation. These gains of development
have not percolated down to the vast majority of our working population. If one
compares only dearness allowance to the employees in public and private sector
and looks at its growth in the past few years, the rising food subsidy is
insignificant to the point of inequity. The food subsidy is a kind of D.A. to
the poor, the self-employed and those in the unorganized sector of the economy.
However, what is most unfortunate is that out of the large budget of the so –
called food subsidy, the major part of it is administrative cost and wastages.
A small portion of the above budget goes to the real consumer and an even
lesser portion to the poor who are in real need.
It is true that subsidies should not become a permanent feature
except for the destitute, disabled widows and the old. It is also true that
subsidies often create a psychology of dependence and hence is habit – forming,
killing the general initiative of the people. By making PDS target group
oriented, not only the poorest and neediest would be reached without additional
cost, but it will actually cut overall costs incurred on large cities and for
better off localities. When the food and food subsidy are limited the rural and
urban poor should have the priority in the PDS supplies. The PDS should be
closely linked with programs of employment generation and nutrition
improvement.
What, according the
passage, would be the outcome of making the PDS target group oriented?
At the time Jane Austen’s novels
were published – between 1811 and 1818 – English literature was not part of any
academic curriculum. In addition, fiction was under strenuous attack. Certain
religious and political groups felt novels had the power to make so-called
immoral characters so interesting that young readers would identify with them;
these groups also considered novels to be of little practical use. Even
Coleridge, certainly no literary reactionary, spoke for many when the asserted
that “novel-reading occasions the destruction of the mind’s powers.”
These attitudes towards novels help
explain why Austen received little attention from early nineteenth-century
literary cities. (In any case a novelist published anonymously, as Austen was,
would not be likely to receive much critical attention.) The literary response
that was accorded to her, however, was often as incisive as twentieth-century
criticism. In his attack in 1816 on novelistic portrayals “outside of ordinary experience,”
for example. Scott made an insightful remark about the merits of Austen’s
fiction.
Her novels, wrote Scott, “present to
the reader an accurate and exact picture of ordinary everyday people and
places, reminiscent of seventeenth-century Flemish painting.” Scott did not use
the word ‘realism’, but he undoubtedly used a standard of realistic probability
in judging novels. The critic Whately did not use the word ‘realism’, either,
but he expressed agreement with Scott’s evaluation, and went on to suggest the possibilities
for moral instruction in what we have called Austen’s ‘realistic method’ her
characters, wrote Whately, are persuasive agents for moral truth since they are
ordinary persons “so clearly evoked that we feel an interest in their fate as
if it were our own.” Moral instruction, explained Whately, is more likely to be
effective when conveyed through recongnizably human and interesting characters
than when imparted by a sermonizing narrator. Whitely especially praised Austen’s
ability to create character who “mingle goodness and villainy, weakness and
virtue, as in life they are always mingled. “Whitely concluded his remarks by
comparing Austen’s art of characterization to Dickens’, starting his preference
for Austen’s.
Yet, the response of
nineteenth-century literary critics to Austen was not always so laudatory, and
often anticipated the reservations of twentieth-century literary critics. An
example of such a response was Lewes complaint in 1859 that Austen’s range of
subject and characters was too narrow. Praising her verisimilitude, Lewes added
that, nonetheless her focus was too often only upon the unlofty and the
commonplace. (Twentieth-century Marxists, on the other hand, were to complain
about what they saw as her exclusive emphasis on a lofty upper middle class.)
In any case having being rescued by literary critics from neglect and indeed
gradually lionized by them, Austen steadily reached, by the mid-nineteenth
century, the enviable pinnacle of being considered controversial.
The author quotes Coleridge in order
to