AP Language and Composition Mock Exam 2 Questions
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success
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
(𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 2008.)
A country founded on the principle of individual freedom—"life, liberty and the pursuit of
happiness"1—has both a gift and a problem. "No man is an island," the English poet
John Donne wrote in the seventeenth century, but in the late eighteenth century, at least
in America, you very nearly could be, at least physically. The continent was so
immense, the forests so thick, and the land so fertile, that a man could literally live
alone. Strictly speaking, if survival was all that mattered, he did not even need a market
to sell to. He had everything he needed in the woods, streams, and fields.
This was how Americans saw themselves, or claimed to see themselves. In his first
Farewell Address—the one in 1783, when he resigned his commission as commander
in chief of the continental army—General George Washington envisioned his disbanded
troops heading out to the "extensive and fertile Regions of the West," which would "yield
a most happy Asylum to those, who, fond of domestic enjoyment are seeking for
personal independence."
This independence was not only geographical, it was psychological, spiritual, political—
and legal. With the colonial grants wiped away by revolution, new American landowners
could buy and hold land in "fee simple," just the way the highest-ranking feudal lords
had done at the top of Old World society. Every man was his own lord and vassal. He
could make whatever money he could, and keep most of it as his own. There would be
taxes in the New World, but they were not "direct." Indeed, for the first century of its
existence, Washington derived the bulk of its revenue from global trade—from import
tariffs and duties—and from sales of federal land.
The spirit of economic individualism was always with us, and by the middle of the
nineteenth century it had become a kind of secular religion in the world of business,
even when the aim of big business was to snuff out the very entrepreneurialism that
nurtured commerce to begin with. In 1886, at the height of the first Gilded Age, the U.S.
Supreme Court declared that the Southern Pacific Railroad—and, by extension, all
profit-making corporations—were entitled to be viewed as individual persons in the eyes
of the law. We were the first country in the world to view them that way, but it made
sense: Individualism was Us, even if Us was a corporate leviathan. Americans have
never fully accepted the idea that tax tables should be designed, and revenues
disbursed, in a way that makes government the redistributor of wealth and guarantor of
income. "Fairness" is one thing, redistribution another.
, There was another view—a counterpoint—and much of our history is about the struggle
of communal thinking to gain sway in the economic life of America. The question has
never been whether Americans would pitch in to help each other—but rather the extent
to which government could require them to do so. Observers from Tocqueville onward
have commented on our willingness, even eagerness, to join voluntary associations,
from civic groups to teaching circles. Americans give more to charity per capita than
citizens of any other country. Bill Gates and Warren Buffett established the wealthiest
charitable foundation in history. We may "bowl alone" more often these days, as author
Robert Putnam gloomily puts it in his metaphor for anomie,3 but we also worry about
the fact that we do so. Walt Whitman,4 our bard of brotherhood, saw no conflict
between his own credo of the individual and his love of all mankind. "[W]hoever walks a
furlong without sympathy," he wrote in "Song of Myself," "walks to his own funeral drest
in a shroud."
But what is the government's role in reconciling two age-old American concepts:
"There's no such thing as a free lunch" and "united we stand"?
𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ("𝐀 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲
. . . 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦") ?
It makes a claim that the passage goes on to defend.
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬
𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞?
They are familiar with the phrase "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡 ("𝐍𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧 . . . 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲"), 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧?
He rebuts it by offering a counterexample.
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡 ("𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 . . . 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞") 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭
help define the idea presented in the previous sentence
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡 ("𝐈𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 . . . 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞"),
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨
identify the specific occasion on which George Washington delivered his first Farewell
Address
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
and Answers 2023,actual test quiz 100% guaranteed
success
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
(𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 2008.)
A country founded on the principle of individual freedom—"life, liberty and the pursuit of
happiness"1—has both a gift and a problem. "No man is an island," the English poet
John Donne wrote in the seventeenth century, but in the late eighteenth century, at least
in America, you very nearly could be, at least physically. The continent was so
immense, the forests so thick, and the land so fertile, that a man could literally live
alone. Strictly speaking, if survival was all that mattered, he did not even need a market
to sell to. He had everything he needed in the woods, streams, and fields.
This was how Americans saw themselves, or claimed to see themselves. In his first
Farewell Address—the one in 1783, when he resigned his commission as commander
in chief of the continental army—General George Washington envisioned his disbanded
troops heading out to the "extensive and fertile Regions of the West," which would "yield
a most happy Asylum to those, who, fond of domestic enjoyment are seeking for
personal independence."
This independence was not only geographical, it was psychological, spiritual, political—
and legal. With the colonial grants wiped away by revolution, new American landowners
could buy and hold land in "fee simple," just the way the highest-ranking feudal lords
had done at the top of Old World society. Every man was his own lord and vassal. He
could make whatever money he could, and keep most of it as his own. There would be
taxes in the New World, but they were not "direct." Indeed, for the first century of its
existence, Washington derived the bulk of its revenue from global trade—from import
tariffs and duties—and from sales of federal land.
The spirit of economic individualism was always with us, and by the middle of the
nineteenth century it had become a kind of secular religion in the world of business,
even when the aim of big business was to snuff out the very entrepreneurialism that
nurtured commerce to begin with. In 1886, at the height of the first Gilded Age, the U.S.
Supreme Court declared that the Southern Pacific Railroad—and, by extension, all
profit-making corporations—were entitled to be viewed as individual persons in the eyes
of the law. We were the first country in the world to view them that way, but it made
sense: Individualism was Us, even if Us was a corporate leviathan. Americans have
never fully accepted the idea that tax tables should be designed, and revenues
disbursed, in a way that makes government the redistributor of wealth and guarantor of
income. "Fairness" is one thing, redistribution another.
, There was another view—a counterpoint—and much of our history is about the struggle
of communal thinking to gain sway in the economic life of America. The question has
never been whether Americans would pitch in to help each other—but rather the extent
to which government could require them to do so. Observers from Tocqueville onward
have commented on our willingness, even eagerness, to join voluntary associations,
from civic groups to teaching circles. Americans give more to charity per capita than
citizens of any other country. Bill Gates and Warren Buffett established the wealthiest
charitable foundation in history. We may "bowl alone" more often these days, as author
Robert Putnam gloomily puts it in his metaphor for anomie,3 but we also worry about
the fact that we do so. Walt Whitman,4 our bard of brotherhood, saw no conflict
between his own credo of the individual and his love of all mankind. "[W]hoever walks a
furlong without sympathy," he wrote in "Song of Myself," "walks to his own funeral drest
in a shroud."
But what is the government's role in reconciling two age-old American concepts:
"There's no such thing as a free lunch" and "united we stand"?
𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ("𝐀 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲
. . . 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦") ?
It makes a claim that the passage goes on to defend.
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬
𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞?
They are familiar with the phrase "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡 ("𝐍𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧 . . . 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲"), 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧?
He rebuts it by offering a counterexample.
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡 ("𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 . . . 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞") 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭
help define the idea presented in the previous sentence
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡 ("𝐈𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 . . . 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞"),
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨
identify the specific occasion on which George Washington delivered his first Farewell
Address
𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗡
