Test Prep Section Two : Biological Sciences MCAT Section 2: Biological Sciences Dumps in PDF

The mind, just like the body, has its needs. The needs of the body are the foundations of society; those of the mind are its amenities. While government and laws provide for the safety and well-being of men when they gather together, the sciences and the arts, which are less despotic but perhaps more powerful, spread garlands of flowers over the iron chains that bind them, stifle in them the sense for that original liberty for which they seem to have been born, cause them to love their own enslavement, and turn them into so-called "civilized people." Necessity raised thrones; the sciences and the arts have strengthened them. O earthly powers:
cherish talents and protect those who cultivate them. O civilized people, cultivate them: you happy slaves owe to them that delicate and refined taste of which you are so proud, that gentleness of character and urbanity of manner which make relations among you so amiable and easy ­ in other words, that semblance of all the virtues, none of which you actually possess...
...How pleasant it would be to live among us, if our external appearance were always a reflection of what is in our hearts, if decency were virtue, if our maxims served as our rules, and if true philosophy were inseparable from the title of philosopher! But so many qualities are seldom found together, and virtue hardly ever walks in such great pomp. Richness of adornment may be the mark of a man of taste, but a healthy, robust man is known by other signs: it is beneath the rustic clothes of a farmer, and not the gilt of a courtier, that strength and vigor of the body will be found. Ornamentation is just as foreign to virtue, which is the strength and vigor of the soul. The good man is an athlete who prefers to compete in the nude: he disdains all those vile ornaments which would hinder the use of his strength, ornaments which were for the most part invented only to hide some deformity.
Before art had molded our manners and taught our passions to speak an affected language, our customs were rustic but natural, and differences in conduct revealed clearly differences in character. Human nature, basically, was no better, but men found security in being able to see through each other easily, and this advantage, which we no longer appreciate, spared them many vices.
Now that more subtle refinements and more delicate taste have reduced the art of pleasing to set rules, a base and deceptive uniformity prevails in our behavior, and all minds seem to have been cast in the same mold. Incessantly politeness and propriety make demands on us, and incessantly we follow usage but never our own inclinations. We no longer dare to appear as we are, and under this perpetual constraint, the men who form this herd called society, when placed in the same circumstances, will all act similarly unless stronger motives direct them to do otherwise. Therefore we will never know well those with whom we deal, for to know our friends we will have to wait for some crises to arise ­ which is to say that we will have to wait until it is too late, as it is for these very crises that it is essential to know one's friends well.
What vice would not accompany this uncertainty? No more sincere friendships, no more genuine esteem, no more well-based confidence. Suspicion, offenses, fears, coldness, reserve, hatred and betrayal will constantly hide under the same false veil of politeness, under that much touted urbanity which we owe to the enlightenment of our times. The name of the Master of the Universe will no longer be profaned by swearing, but insulted by blasphemies that will not offend our scrupulous ears. Men will not boast of their own merits, but belittle those of others. An enemy will not be crudely insulted, but adroitly slandered. National hatreds will die, but so will patriotism. A dangerous skepticism will take the place of the scorning of ignorance. Some excesses will be forbidden, some vices dishonored, but others will be dignified with the name of virtues, and one must either have them or feign them. Let those who want to praise the sobriety of the sages of our time do so; as for me, I see in it only a refinement of intemperance that is as unworthy of my praise as their hypocritical simplicity.
According to the tone and content of the passage, which statement best reflects the author's opinion of the purpose of the sciences and the arts?

The mind, just like the body, has its needs. The needs of the body are the foundations of society; those of the mind are its amenities. While government and laws provide for the safety and well-being of men when they gather together, the sciences and the arts, which are less despotic but perhaps more powerful, spread garlands of flowers over the iron chains that bind them, stifle in them the sense for that original liberty for which they seem to have been born, cause them to love their own enslavement, and turn them into so-called "civilized people." Necessity raised thrones; the sciences and the arts have strengthened them. O earthly powers:
cherish talents and protect those who cultivate them. O civilized people, cultivate them: you happy slaves owe to them that delicate and refined taste of which you are so proud, that gentleness of character and urbanity of manner which make relations among you so amiable and easy ­ in other words, that semblance of all the virtues, none of which you actually possess...
...How pleasant it would be to live among us, if our external appearance were always a reflection of what is in our hearts, if decency were virtue, if our maxims served as our rules, and if true philosophy were inseparable from the title of philosopher! But so many qualities are seldom found together, and virtue hardly ever walks in such great pomp. Richness of adornment may be the mark of a man of taste, but a healthy, robust man is known by other signs: it is beneath the rustic clothes of a farmer, and not the gilt of a courtier, that strength and vigor of the body will be found. Ornamentation is just as foreign to virtue, which is the strength and vigor of the soul. The good man is an athlete who prefers to compete in the nude: he disdains all those vile ornaments which would hinder the use of his strength, ornaments which were for the most part invented only to hide some deformity.
Before art had molded our manners and taught our passions to speak an affected language, our customs were rustic but natural, and differences in conduct revealed clearly differences in character. Human nature, basically, was no better, but men found security in being able to see through each other easily, and this advantage, which we no longer appreciate, spared them many vices.
Now that more subtle refinements and more delicate taste have reduced the art of pleasing to set rules, a base and deceptive uniformity prevails in our behavior, and all minds seem to have been cast in the same mold. Incessantly politeness and propriety make demands on us, and incessantly we follow usage but never our own inclinations. We no longer dare to appear as we are, and under this perpetual constraint, the men who form this herd called society, when placed in the same circumstances, will all act similarly unless stronger motives direct them to do otherwise. Therefore we will never know well those with whom we deal, for to know our friends we will have to wait for some crises to arise ­ which is to say that we will have to wait until it is too late, as it is for these very crises that it is essential to know one's friends well.
What vice would not accompany this uncertainty? No more sincere friendships, no more genuine esteem, no more well-based confidence. Suspicion, offenses, fears, coldness, reserve, hatred and betrayal will constantly hide under the same false veil of politeness, under that much touted urbanity which we owe to the enlightenment of our times. The name of the Master of the Universe will no longer be profaned by swearing, but insulted by blasphemies that will not offend our scrupulous ears. Men will not boast of their own merits, but belittle those of others. An enemy will not be crudely insulted, but adroitly slandered. National hatreds will die, but so will patriotism. A dangerous skepticism will take the place of the scorning of ignorance. Some excesses will be forbidden, some vices dishonored, but others will be dignified with the name of virtues, and one must either have them or feign them. Let those who want to praise the sobriety of the sages of our time do so; as for me, I see in it only a refinement of intemperance that is as unworthy of my praise as their hypocritical simplicity.
In the context of this passage, the "needs of the body" are to government and laws as:

The mind, just like the body, has its needs. The needs of the body are the foundations of society; those of the mind are its amenities. While government and laws provide for the safety and well-being of men when they gather together, the sciences and the arts, which are less despotic but perhaps more powerful, spread garlands of flowers over the iron chains that bind them, stifle in them the sense for that original liberty for which they seem to have been born, cause them to love their own enslavement, and turn them into so-called "civilized people." Necessity raised thrones; the sciences and the arts have strengthened them. O earthly powers:
cherish talents and protect those who cultivate them. O civilized people, cultivate them: you happy slaves owe to them that delicate and refined taste of which you are so proud, that gentleness of character and urbanity of manner which make relations among you so amiable and easy ­ in other words, that semblance of all the virtues, none of which you actually possess...
...How pleasant it would be to live among us, if our external appearance were always a reflection of what is in our hearts, if decency were virtue, if our maxims served as our rules, and if true philosophy were inseparable from the title of philosopher! But so many qualities are seldom found together, and virtue hardly ever walks in such great pomp. Richness of adornment may be the mark of a man of taste, but a healthy, robust man is known by other signs: it is beneath the rustic clothes of a farmer, and not the gilt of a courtier, that strength and vigor of the body will be found. Ornamentation is just as foreign to virtue, which is the strength and vigor of the soul. The good man is an athlete who prefers to compete in the nude: he disdains all those vile ornaments which would hinder the use of his strength, ornaments which were for the most part invented only to hide some deformity.
Before art had molded our manners and taught our passions to speak an affected language, our customs were rustic but natural, and differences in conduct revealed clearly differences in character. Human nature, basically, was no better, but men found security in being able to see through each other easily, and this advantage, which we no longer appreciate, spared them many vices.
Now that more subtle refinements and more delicate taste have reduced the art of pleasing to set rules, a base and deceptive uniformity prevails in our behavior, and all minds seem to have been cast in the same mold. Incessantly politeness and propriety make demands on us, and incessantly we follow usage but never our own inclinations. We no longer dare to appear as we are, and under this perpetual constraint, the men who form this herd called society, when placed in the same circumstances, will all act similarly unless stronger motives direct them to do otherwise. Therefore we will never know well those with whom we deal, for to know our friends we will have to wait for some crises to arise ­ which is to say that we will have to wait until it is too late, as it is for these very crises that it is essential to know one's friends well.
What vice would not accompany this uncertainty? No more sincere friendships, no more genuine esteem, no more well-based confidence. Suspicion, offenses, fears, coldness, reserve, hatred and betrayal will constantly hide under the same false veil of politeness, under that much touted urbanity which we owe to the enlightenment of our times. The name of the Master of the Universe will no longer be profaned by swearing, but insulted by blasphemies that will not offend our scrupulous ears. Men will not boast of their own merits, but belittle those of others. An enemy will not be crudely insulted, but adroitly slandered. National hatreds will die, but so will patriotism. A dangerous skepticism will take the place of the scorning of ignorance. Some excesses will be forbidden, some vices dishonored, but others will be dignified with the name of virtues, and one must either have them or feign them. Let those who want to praise the sobriety of the sages of our time do so; as for me, I see in it only a refinement of intemperance that is as unworthy of my praise as their hypocritical simplicity.
The author of this passage would most likely have the greatest respect for a person who:

The mind, just like the body, has its needs. The needs of the body are the foundations of society; those of the mind are its amenities. While government and laws provide for the safety and well-being of men when they gather together, the sciences and the arts, which are less despotic but perhaps more powerful, spread garlands of flowers over the iron chains that bind them, stifle in them the sense for that original liberty for which they seem to have been born, cause them to love their own enslavement, and turn them into so-called "civilized people." Necessity raised thrones; the sciences and the arts have strengthened them. O earthly powers:
cherish talents and protect those who cultivate them. O civilized people, cultivate them: you happy slaves owe to them that delicate and refined taste of which you are so proud, that gentleness of character and urbanity of manner which make relations among you so amiable and easy ­ in other words, that semblance of all the virtues, none of which you actually possess...
...How pleasant it would be to live among us, if our external appearance were always a reflection of what is in our hearts, if decency were virtue, if our maxims served as our rules, and if true philosophy were inseparable from the title of philosopher! But so many qualities are seldom found together, and virtue hardly ever walks in such great pomp. Richness of adornment may be the mark of a man of taste, but a healthy, robust man is known by other signs: it is beneath the rustic clothes of a farmer, and not the gilt of a courtier, that strength and vigor of the body will be found. Ornamentation is just as foreign to virtue, which is the strength and vigor of the soul. The good man is an athlete who prefers to compete in the nude: he disdains all those vile ornaments which would hinder the use of his strength, ornaments which were for the most part invented only to hide some deformity.
Before art had molded our manners and taught our passions to speak an affected language, our customs were rustic but natural, and differences in conduct revealed clearly differences in character. Human nature, basically, was no better, but men found security in being able to see through each other easily, and this advantage, which we no longer appreciate, spared them many vices.
Now that more subtle refinements and more delicate taste have reduced the art of pleasing to set rules, a base and deceptive uniformity prevails in our behavior, and all minds seem to have been cast in the same mold. Incessantly politeness and propriety make demands on us, and incessantly we follow usage but never our own inclinations. We no longer dare to appear as we are, and under this perpetual constraint, the men who form this herd called society, when placed in the same circumstances, will all act similarly unless stronger motives direct them to do otherwise. Therefore we will never know well those with whom we deal, for to know our friends we will have to wait for some crises to arise ­ which is to say that we will have to wait until it is too late, as it is for these very crises that it is essential to know one's friends well.
What vice would not accompany this uncertainty? No more sincere friendships, no more genuine esteem, no more well-based confidence. Suspicion, offenses, fears, coldness, reserve, hatred and betrayal will constantly hide under the same false veil of politeness, under that much touted urbanity which we owe to the enlightenment of our times. The name of the Master of the Universe will no longer be profaned by swearing, but insulted by blasphemies that will not offend our scrupulous ears. Men will not boast of their own merits, but belittle those of others. An enemy will not be crudely insulted, but adroitly slandered. National hatreds will die, but so will patriotism. A dangerous skepticism will take the place of the scorning of ignorance. Some excesses will be forbidden, some vices dishonored, but others will be dignified with the name of virtues, and one must either have them or feign them. Let those who want to praise the sobriety of the sages of our time do so; as for me, I see in it only a refinement of intemperance that is as unworthy of my praise as their hypocritical simplicity.
According to the author's arguments, a society that prizes its sciences and arts will:

The mind, just like the body, has its needs. The needs of the body are the foundations of society; those of the mind are its amenities. While government and laws provide for the safety and well-being of men when they gather together, the sciences and the arts, which are less despotic but perhaps more powerful, spread garlands of flowers over the iron chains that bind them, stifle in them the sense for that original liberty for which they seem to have been born, cause them to love their own enslavement, and turn them into so-called "civilized people." Necessity raised thrones; the sciences and the arts have strengthened them. O earthly powers:
cherish talents and protect those who cultivate them. O civilized people, cultivate them: you happy slaves owe to them that delicate and refined taste of which you are so proud, that gentleness of character and urbanity of manner which make relations among you so amiable and easy ­ in other words, that semblance of all the virtues, none of which you actually possess...

...How pleasant it would be to live among us, if our external appearance were always a reflection of what is in our hearts, if decency were virtue, if our maxims served as our rules, and if true philosophy were inseparable from the title of philosopher! But so many qualities are seldom found together, and virtue hardly ever walks in such great pomp. Richness of adornment may be the mark of a man of taste, but a healthy, robust man is known by other signs: it is beneath the rustic clothes of a farmer, and not the gilt of a courtier, that strength and vigor of the body will be found. Ornamentation is just as foreign to virtue, which is the strength and vigor of the soul. The good man is an athlete who prefers to compete in the nude: he disdains all those vile ornaments which would hinder the use of his strength, ornaments which were for the most part invented only to hide some deformity.
Before art had molded our manners and taught our passions to speak an affected language, our customs were rustic but natural, and differences in conduct revealed clearly differences in character. Human nature, basically, was no better, but men found security in being able to see through each other easily, and this advantage, which we no longer appreciate, spared them many vices.
Now that more subtle refinements and more delicate taste have reduced the art of pleasing to set rules, a base and deceptive uniformity prevails in our behavior, and all minds seem to have been cast in the same mold. Incessantly politeness and propriety make demands on us, and incessantly we follow usage but never our own inclinations. We no longer dare to appear as we are, and under this perpetual constraint, the men who form this herd called society, when placed in the same circumstances, will all act similarly unless stronger motives direct them to do otherwise. Therefore we will never know well those with whom we deal, for to know our friends we will have to wait for some crises to arise ­ which is to say that we will have to wait until it is too late, as it is for these very crises that it is essential to know one's friends well.
What vice would not accompany this uncertainty? No more sincere friendships, no more genuine esteem, no more well-based confidence. Suspicion, offenses, fears, coldness, reserve, hatred and betrayal will constantly hide under the same false veil of politeness, under that much touted urbanity which we owe to the enlightenment of our times. The name of the Master of the Universe will no longer be profaned by swearing, but insulted by blasphemies that will not offend our scrupulous ears. Men will not boast of their own merits, but belittle those of others. An enemy will not be crudely insulted, but adroitly slandered. National hatreds will die, but so will patriotism. A dangerous skepticism will take the place of the scorning of ignorance. Some excesses will be forbidden, some vices dishonored, but others will be dignified with the name of virtues, and one must either have them or feign them. Let those who want to praise the sobriety of the sages of our time do so; as for me, I see in it only a refinement of intemperance that is as unworthy of my praise as their hypocritical simplicity.
According to the author, an "urbane" person is most likely to put the highest value on which of the following characteristics?