SSAT Upper Level Reading : Main Idea, Details, Opinions, and Arguments in Argumentative Humanities Passages

Study concepts, example questions & explanations for SSAT Upper Level Reading

varsity tutors app store varsity tutors android store

Example Questions

Example Question #16 : Identifying And Analyzing Supporting Ideas In Literature Passages

Adapted from "The Philosophy of Composition" by Edgar Allan Poe (1846)

Nothing is more clear than that every plot, worth the name, must be elaborated to its dénouement before any thing be attempted with the pen. It is only with the dénouement constantly in view that we can give a plot its indispensable air of consequence, or causation, by making the incidents, and especially the tone at all points, tend to the development of the intention.

There is a radical error, I think, in the usual mode of constructing a story. Either history affords a thesis—or one is suggested by an incident of the day—or, at best, the author sets himself to work in the combination of striking events to form merely the basis of his narrative—designing, generally, to fill in with description, dialogue, or autorial comment, whatever crevices of fact, or action, may, from page to page, render themselves apparent.

I prefer commencing with the consideration of an effect. Keeping originality always in view—for he is false to himself who ventures to dispense with so obvious and so easily attainable a source of interest—I say to myself, in the first place, “Of the innumerable effects, or impressions, of which the heart, the intellect, or (more generally) the soul is susceptible, what one shall I, on the present occasion, select?” Having chosen a novel, first, and secondly a vivid effect, I consider whether it can best be wrought by incident or tone—whether by ordinary incidents and peculiar tone, or the converse, or by peculiarity both of incident and tone—afterward looking about me (or rather within) for such combinations of event, or tone, as shall best aid me in the construction of the effect.

Poe claims that the dénouement must constantly be kept in mind for all of the following reasons EXCEPT __________.

Possible Answers:

the writer makes the tone of the story consistent with how it ends

the writer gives the reader the feeling that everything in the story is meant to happen

the writer gives the ending a feeling of logical consequence

the writer makes every incident in the story lead logically to the conclusion

Correct answer:

the writer gives the reader the feeling that everything in the story is meant to happen

Explanation:

In the second sentence of the first paragraph, Poe writes, "It is only with the dénouement constantly in view that we can give a plot its indispensable air of consequence, or causation, by making the incidents, and especially the tone at all points, tend to the development of the intention." So, while the writer may indeed give the reader the feeling that everything in the story is meant to happen, the main purposes of keeping the dénouement in mind have to do with keeping the tone consistent and having the story proceed to a logical conclusion.

Example Question #51 : Humanities

Adapted from "The Philosophy of Composition" by Edgar Allan Poe (1846)

Nothing is more clear than that every plot, worth the name, must be elaborated to its dénouement before any thing be attempted with the pen. It is only with the dénouement constantly in view that we can give a plot its indispensable air of consequence, or causation, by making the incidents, and especially the tone at all points, tend to the development of the intention.

There is a radical error, I think, in the usual mode of constructing a story. Either history affords a thesis—or one is suggested by an incident of the day—or, at best, the author sets himself to work in the combination of striking events to form merely the basis of his narrative—designing, generally, to fill in with description, dialogue, or autorial comment, whatever crevices of fact, or action, may, from page to page, render themselves apparent.

I prefer commencing with the consideration of an effect. Keeping originality always in view—for he is false to himself who ventures to dispense with so obvious and so easily attainable a source of interest—I say to myself, in the first place, “Of the innumerable effects, or impressions, of which the heart, the intellect, or (more generally) the soul is susceptible, what one shall I, on the present occasion, select?” Having chosen a novel, first, and secondly a vivid effect, I consider whether it can best be wrought by incident or tone—whether by ordinary incidents and peculiar tone, or the converse, or by peculiarity both of incident and tone—afterward looking about me (or rather within) for such combinations of event, or tone, as shall best aid me in the construction of the effect.

Poe says that each of the following ways of constructing a story are common but erroneous EXCEPT for __________.

Possible Answers:

putting together disparate elements to form the plot of a story

focusing on producing an overall feeling with the story

starting with an incident from history

starting with an incident drawn from current events

Correct answer:

focusing on producing an overall feeling with the story

Explanation:

In the second paragraph, Poe writes, "There is a radical error, I think, in the usual mode of constructing a story. Either history affords a thesis—or one is suggested by an incident of the day—or, at best, the author sets himself to work in the combination of striking events to form merely the basis of his narrative—designing, generally, to fill in with description, dialogue, or autorial comment, whatever crevices of fact, or action, may, from page to page, render themselves apparent."

So, while Poe lists starting with an incident from history ("history affords a thesis"), starting with an incident from current events ("[a thesis] is suggested by an incident of the day"), and putting together disparate elements to craft a story ("the combination of striking events to form merely the basis of his narrative"), he says nothing about the writer starting with trying to produce a certain emotion in the reader, which is actually the way he constructs his stories, as he describes in the third paragraph.

Example Question #2 : Analyzing Argumentative Claims, Bias, And Support In Humanities Passages

Adapted from “A Defense of Slang” in The Romance of the Commonplace by Gelett Burgess (1902)

Could Shakespeare come to Chicago and listen curiously to "the man in the street," he would find himself more at home than in London. In the mouths of messenger boys and clerks he would find the English language used with all the freedom of unexpected metaphor and the plastic, suggestive diction that was the privilege of the Elizabethan dramatists; he would say, no doubt, that he had found a nation of poets. There was hardly any such thing as slang in his day, for no graphic trope was too virile or uncommon for acceptance, if its meaning were patent. His own heroes often spoke what corresponds to the slang of today.

The word, indeed, needs precise definition, before we condemn all unconventional talk with vigor. Slang has been called "poetry in the rough," and it is not all coarse or vulgar. There is a prosaic as well as a poetic license. The man in the street calls a charming girl, for instance, a "daisy." Surely this is not inelegant, and such a reference will be understood a century from now. Slang, to prove adjuvant to our speech, which is growing more and more rigid and conventional, should be terse; it should make for force and clarity, without any sacrifice of beauty.

The author believes that slang should primarily be used __________.

Possible Answers:

to praise or insult an individual

to describe something inelegantly

to add color and clarity to language

sparingly, so as not to cause offense

when writing plays and sonnets

Correct answer:

to add color and clarity to language

Explanation:

The author’s opinion on the use of slang can be found in the concluding statement to this passage where he says “Slang, to prove adjuvant to our speech, which is growing more and more rigid and conventional, should be terse; it should make for force and clarity, without any sacrifice of beauty.” The statement about how formal speech is growing more and more rigid provides a clue that the author believes slang should be used to add color to our language. In addition, the author states himself that slang should make for clarity. The other answer choices are neither explicitly nor implicitly stated in the passage.

Example Question #41 : Specific Phrases And Sentences In Humanities Passages

Adapted from “A Defense of Slang” in The Romance of the Commonplace by Gelett Burgess (1902)

Could Shakespeare come to Chicago and listen curiously to "the man in the street," he would find himself more at home than in London. In the mouths of messenger boys and clerks he would find the English language used with all the freedom of unexpected metaphor and the plastic, suggestive diction that was the privilege of the Elizabethan dramatists; he would say, no doubt, that he had found a nation of poets. There was hardly any such thing as slang in his day, for no graphic trope was too virile or uncommon for acceptance, if its meaning were patent. His own heroes often spoke what corresponds to the slang of today.

The word, indeed, needs precise definition, before we condemn all unconventional talk with vigor. Slang has been called "poetry in the rough," and it is not all coarse or vulgar. There is a prosaic as well as a poetic license. The man in the street calls a charming girl, for instance, a "daisy." Surely this is not inelegant, and such a reference will be understood a century from now. Slang, to prove adjuvant to our speech, which is growing more and more rigid and conventional, should be terse; it should make for force and clarity, without any sacrifice of beauty.

In the passage's second line, why does the author contend that Shakespeare would be more at home in Chicago than in London?

Possible Answers:

He would discover a whole new form of expression, unfamiliar to Elizabethan England.

In the “messenger boys and clerks” he would find characters reminiscent of the heroes of his plays.

He would be able to escape the vulgarity of English slang.

He would find the English language used in a more poetic, elastic, and familiar manner.

The author does not contend that Shakespeare would be more at home in Chicago than in London.

Correct answer:

He would find the English language used in a more poetic, elastic, and familiar manner.

Explanation:

In order to answer this question, it is necessary to consider what you know about the passage as a whole. The author makes no obvious statement as to why Shakespeare would feel more at home in Chicago than in London, but the way in which he discusses slang usage in Chicago in comparison to the London that existed hundreds of years ago provides a clue that the author believes contemporary London to be lacking in colorful language. The author states that Shakespeare would be enamored with Chicago because of the poetic usage of slang, and because the slang that was being used would be familiar to Shakespeare as it resembles the language found often in his plays.

Example Question #351 : Humanities Passages

Adapted from “A Defense of Slang” in The Romance of the Commonplace by Gelett Burgess (1902)

Could Shakespeare come to Chicago and listen curiously to "the man in the street," he would find himself more at home than in London. In the mouths of messenger boys and clerks he would find the English language used with all the freedom of unexpected metaphor and the plastic, suggestive diction that was the privilege of the Elizabethan dramatists; he would say, no doubt, that he had found a nation of poets. There was hardly any such thing as slang in his day, for no graphic trope was too virile or uncommon for acceptance, if its meaning were patent. His own heroes often spoke what corresponds to the slang of today.

The word, indeed, needs precise definition, before we condemn all unconventional talk with vigor. Slang has been called "poetry in the rough," and it is not all coarse or vulgar. There is a prosaic as well as a poetic license. The man in the street calls a charming girl, for instance, a "daisy." Surely this is not inelegant, and such a reference will be understood a century from now. Slang, to prove adjuvant to our speech, which is growing more and more rigid and conventional, should be terse; it should make for force and clarity, without any sacrifice of beauty.

Why does the author believe there was no slang in Shakespeare’s time?

Possible Answers:

Slang was considered too vulgar and its usage was discouraged by Queen Elizabeth I.

The people of Elizabethan England were too serious for such prosaic creativity.

There were too few laboring classes from which slang could be drawn.

Even strong, offensive, and unusual language was widely accepted and understood.

English dramatists refused to employ slang in their work.

Correct answer:

Even strong, offensive, and unusual language was widely accepted and understood.

Explanation:

The author makes a statement that there was “hardly any such thing as slang” in Shakespeare’s day. But, we know that the author has compared the slang spoken in Chicago to the language of Elizabethan England. To remedy this apparent discrepancy, it is necessary to read on and pay attention to the phrase “no graphic trope was too virile or uncommon for acceptance.” Here, the author is stating that slang language in Elizabethan England was part of the common city-wide vernacular and not confined to smaller groups, such as the “messenger boys and clerks” of Chicago. The author clearly feels that even offensive or unusual language was widely used and understood.

Example Question #4 : Drawing Generalizations About Humanities Passages

Adapted from “A Defense of Slang” in The Romance of the Commonplace by Gelett Burgess (1902)

Could Shakespeare come to Chicago and listen curiously to "the man in the street," he would find himself more at home than in London. In the mouths of messenger boys and clerks he would find the English language used with all the freedom of unexpected metaphor and the plastic, suggestive diction that was the privilege of the Elizabethan dramatists; he would say, no doubt, that he had found a nation of poets. There was hardly any such thing as slang in his day, for no graphic trope was too virile or uncommon for acceptance, if its meaning were patent. His own heroes often spoke what corresponds to the slang of today.

The word, indeed, needs precise definition, before we condemn all unconventional talk with vigor. Slang has been called "poetry in the rough," and it is not all coarse or vulgar. There is a prosaic as well as a poetic license. The man in the street calls a charming girl, for instance, a "daisy." Surely this is not inelegant, and such a reference will be understood a century from now. Slang, to prove adjuvant to our speech, which is growing more and more rigid and conventional, should be terse; it should make for force and clarity, without any sacrifice of beauty.

The passage as a whole suggests that a “nation of poets” __________.

Possible Answers:

existed in the upper classes of American society

could have been found in Elizabethan England

can be found in working-class Chicago

should be considered vulgar and coarse

could not exist without a sacrifice of linguistic beauty

Correct answer:

can be found in working-class Chicago

Explanation:

To solve this question, you have to read in-context. The author states that if Shakespeare came to Chicago and listened to the “man in the street,” he would hear a “nation of poets.” The author even expands his definition of “man in the street” and tells the reader that it is “messenger boys and clerks.” This suggests that a nation of poets would be found in the working classes of Chicago, and of America. The important point here is to extrapolate from information found in the text. The author does not explicitly make a statement about working classes, but he uses idioms such as “man in the street” to implicitly make his point.

Example Question #11 : Purpose And Effect Of Phrases Or Sentences In Humanities Passages

Adapted from "The Eulogy of the Dog" by George Graham Vest (1870)

The best friend a man has in this world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter whom he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name, may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it the most. A man’s reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads. The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him and the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog.

Gentlemen of the jury, a man’s dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he can be near his master’s side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer, he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince.

When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens. If fortune drives the master forth an outcast into the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard him against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad but open, in alert watchfulness, faithful and true, even unto death.

The description of the duplicity of man in the first paragraph is meant to highlight __________.

Possible Answers:

the loyalty of dogs

the immorality of humans as opposed to animals

the difficulty of owning pets

the brevity of a man’s reputation

the impudence of some dog owners

Correct answer:

the loyalty of dogs

Explanation:

The author highlights the common foibles, vices, and selfish actions of man to create a contrast with the loyalty and inherent goodness of dogs. You can infer this most obviously from the author’s conclusion to the first paragraph, “The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him and the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog.” The immorality of humans as opposed to animals seems partly right, but the author is expressly talking about just dogs, so there is a better answer choice.

Example Question #11 : Inference About The Author

Adapted from The Idea of a University by John Henry Newman (1852)

I have been insisting, in my two preceding Discourses, first, on the cultivation of the intellect, as an end which may reasonably be pursued for its own sake; and next, on the nature of that cultivation, or what that cultivation consists in. Truth of whatever kind is the proper object of the intellect; its cultivation then lies in fitting it to apprehend and contemplate truth. Now the intellect in its present state, with exceptions which need not here be specified, does not discern truth intuitively, or as a whole. We know, not by a direct and simple vision, not at a glance, but, as it were, by piecemeal and accumulation, by a mental process, by going round an object, by the comparison, the combination, the mutual correction, the continual adaptation, of many partial notions, by the employment, concentration, and joint action of many faculties and exercises of mind.

Such a union and concert of the intellectual powers, such an enlargement and development, such a comprehensiveness, is necessarily a matter of training. And again, such a training is a matter of rule. It is not mere application, however exemplary, which introduces the mind to truth, nor the reading many books, nor the getting up many subjects, nor the witnessing many experiments, nor the attending many lectures. All this is short of enough. A man may have done it all, yet be lingering in the vestibule of knowledge. He may not realize what his mouth utters; he may not see with his mental eye what confronts him; he may have no grasp of things as they are, or at least he may have no power at all of advancing one step forward of himself, in consequence of what he has already acquired, no power of discriminating between truth and falsehood, of sifting out the grains of truth from the mass, of arranging things according to their real value, and, if I may use the phrase, of building up ideas. Such a power is the result of a scientific formation of mind; it is an acquired faculty of judgment, of clear-sightedness, of sagacity, of wisdom, of philosophical reach of mind, and of intellectual self-possession and repose—qualities which do not come of mere acquirement. The bodily eye, the organ for apprehending material objects, is provided by nature; the eye of the mind, of which the object is truth, is the work of discipline and habit.

This process of training, by which the intellect, instead of being formed or sacrificed to some particular or accidental purpose, some specific trade or profession, or study or science, is disciplined for its own sake, for the perception of its own proper object, and for its own highest culture, is called Liberal Education; and though there is no one in whom it is carried as far as is conceivable, or whose intellect would be a pattern of what intellects should be made, yet there is scarcely any one but may gain an idea of what real training is, and at least look towards it, and make its true scope and result, not something else, his standard of excellence; and numbers there are who may submit themselves to it, and secure it to themselves in good measure. And to set forth the right standard, and to train according to it, and to help forward all students towards it according to their various capacities, this I conceive to be the business of a University.

What would Newman think of a scientist who was very knowledgeable in his subject but limited his knowledge only to that discipline?

Possible Answers:

He has followed the necessary protocol of scientific knowledge.

He is generally ignorant.

He has not achieved true knowledge.

None of the other answers

He has specialized himself, like so much of modernity with its limited views.

Correct answer:

None of the other answers

Explanation:

There are two key sentences for this question: (1) "A man may have done it all, yet be lingering in the vestibule of knowledge"; and (2) " . . . no power of discriminating between truth and falsehood, of sifting out the grains of truth from the mass, of arranging things according to their real value, and, if I may use the phrase, of building up ideas."

In (1), Newman is discussing the fact that someone who has a lot of factual knowledge does not yet have true knowledge. (The word "vestibule" roughly means entranceway—as though he has not yet "entered into" the house of truth.)  In (2), he contrasts such a person with someone who can arrange his or her ideas well. Although such a scientist may be limited in Newman's opinion, we are not told whether or not he or she actually has a grasp of the interconnected nature of his or her knowledge. Therefore, we cannot say whether Newman would critique such a person for being narrow—at least for this reason. Clearly, he would think it problematic that the person does not know the connection of his or her subject to the rest of human knowledge, but the described scientist may well have an orderly knowledge of his or her discipline.

Example Question #12 : Analyzing Components Of An Argument In Single Answer Questions

Adapted from The Idea of a University by John Henry Newman (1852)

I have been insisting, in my two preceding Discourses, first, on the cultivation of the intellect, as an end which may reasonably be pursued for its own sake; and next, on the nature of that cultivation, or what that cultivation consists in. Truth of whatever kind is the proper object of the intellect; its cultivation then lies in fitting it to apprehend and contemplate truth. Now the intellect in its present state, with exceptions which need not here be specified, does not discern truth intuitively, or as a whole. We know, not by a direct and simple vision, not at a glance, but, as it were, by piecemeal and accumulation, by a mental process, by going round an object, by the comparison, the combination, the mutual correction, the continual adaptation, of many partial notions, by the employment, concentration, and joint action of many faculties and exercises of mind.

Such a union and concert of the intellectual powers, such an enlargement and development, such a comprehensiveness, is necessarily a matter of training. And again, such a training is a matter of rule. It is not mere application, however exemplary, which introduces the mind to truth, nor the reading many books, nor the getting up many subjects, nor the witnessing many experiments, nor the attending many lectures. All this is short of enough. A man may have done it all, yet be lingering in the vestibule of knowledge. He may not realize what his mouth utters; he may not see with his mental eye what confronts him; he may have no grasp of things as they are, or at least he may have no power at all of advancing one step forward of himself, in consequence of what he has already acquired, no power of discriminating between truth and falsehood, of sifting out the grains of truth from the mass, of arranging things according to their real value, and, if I may use the phrase, of building up ideas. Such a power is the result of a scientific formation of mind; it is an acquired faculty of judgment, of clear-sightedness, of sagacity, of wisdom, of philosophical reach of mind, and of intellectual self-possession and repose—qualities which do not come of mere acquirement. The bodily eye, the organ for apprehending material objects, is provided by nature; the eye of the mind, of which the object is truth, is the work of discipline and habit.

This process of training, by which the intellect, instead of being formed or sacrificed to some particular or accidental purpose, some specific trade or profession, or study or science, is disciplined for its own sake, for the perception of its own proper object, and for its own highest culture, is called Liberal Education; and though there is no one in whom it is carried as far as is conceivable, or whose intellect would be a pattern of what intellects should be made, yet there is scarcely any one but may gain an idea of what real training is, and at least look towards it, and make its true scope and result, not something else, his standard of excellence; and numbers there are who may submit themselves to it, and secure it to themselves in good measure. And to set forth the right standard, and to train according to it, and to help forward all students towards it according to their various capacities, this I conceive to be the business of a University.

According to Newman, how is it that true knowledge does not come from “mere acquirement”?

Possible Answers:

Such a view only takes account of bodily vision and not also the "eye of the mind."

True knowledge is more than what is learned in books.

None of the other answers

No matter how many facts are acquired, there are ever more to be learned.

True knowledge must understand how to reason through facts.

Correct answer:

True knowledge must understand how to reason through facts.

Explanation:

Throughout his remarks in this paragraph, Newman contrasts the person who has a great deal of factual knowledge with someone who has knowledge of how to "reason through" facts and build them up in an orderly manner. This is what he means—no matter how much we acquaint ourselves with facts, we only have real knowledge when we understand the "why" of those facts and their interrelations.

Example Question #1 : Word Choice And Effect

Adapted from The Idea of a University by John Henry Newman (1852)

I have been insisting, in my two preceding Discourses, first, on the cultivation of the intellect, as an end which may reasonably be pursued for its own sake; and next, on the nature of that cultivation, or what that cultivation consists in. Truth of whatever kind is the proper object of the intellect; its cultivation then lies in fitting it to apprehend and contemplate truth. Now the intellect in its present state, with exceptions which need not here be specified, does not discern truth intuitively, or as a whole. We know, not by a direct and simple vision, not at a glance, but, as it were, by piecemeal and accumulation, by a mental process, by going round an object, by the comparison, the combination, the mutual correction, the continual adaptation, of many partial notions, by the employment, concentration, and joint action of many faculties and exercises of mind.

Such a union and concert of the intellectual powers, such an enlargement and development, such a comprehensiveness, is necessarily a matter of training. And again, such a training is a matter of rule. It is not mere application, however exemplary, which introduces the mind to truth, nor the reading many books, nor the getting up many subjects, nor the witnessing many experiments, nor the attending many lectures. All this is short of enough. A man may have done it all, yet be lingering in the vestibule of knowledge. He may not realize what his mouth utters; he may not see with his mental eye what confronts him; he may have no grasp of things as they are, or at least he may have no power at all of advancing one step forward of himself, in consequence of what he has already acquired, no power of discriminating between truth and falsehood, of sifting out the grains of truth from the mass, of arranging things according to their real value, and, if I may use the phrase, of building up ideas. Such a power is the result of a scientific formation of mind; it is an acquired faculty of judgment, of clear-sightedness, of sagacity, of wisdom, of philosophical reach of mind, and of intellectual self-possession and repose—qualities which do not come of mere acquirement. The bodily eye, the organ for apprehending material objects, is provided by nature; the eye of the mind, of which the object is truth, is the work of discipline and habit.

This process of training, by which the intellect, instead of being formed or sacrificed to some particular or accidental purpose, some specific trade or profession, or study or science, is disciplined for its own sake, for the perception of its own proper object, and for its own highest culture, is called Liberal Education; and though there is no one in whom it is carried as far as is conceivable, or whose intellect would be a pattern of what intellects should be made, yet there is scarcely any one but may gain an idea of what real training is, and at least look towards it, and make its true scope and result, not something else, his standard of excellence; and numbers there are who may submit themselves to it, and secure it to themselves in good measure. And to set forth the right standard, and to train according to it, and to help forward all students towards it according to their various capacities, this I conceive to be the business of a University.

Why does Newman use the term “eye” to describe the mind?

Possible Answers:

To contrast the difference between mere experience and thinking

To add a mystical element to his discussion

To use a poetic metaphor to overcome the prejudices of his reader

To touch on the way that the mind sees universal ideas in contrast to particular ones

None of the other answers

Correct answer:

To contrast the difference between mere experience and thinking

Explanation:

This sentence proposes a clear contrast between two ways of "seeing": Intellectual "seeing" and physical "seeing." The latter is said to be provided by nature. So long as our eyes "work," we are able to see well. Perhaps we do train our eyes to focus, but Newman's point is that intellectual knowledge—a kind of mental "vision"—requires discipline and training at great length. He thus contrasts the two by using the word "eye." Though somewhat poetic, it is not merely rhetorical, for it does help to draw the contrast to the foreground.

Learning Tools by Varsity Tutors