His teacher must stand in front of him and give such directions as these: "Look at me," "See what I am doing," "Watch my hand," "Do the thing this way," "Do the thing that way," "Listen to what I say," "Repeat it after me," "Repeat it all together," "Say it three times." And the child, growing more and more comatose, must obey these directions and ask no questions; and when he has done what he has been told to do, he must sit still and wait for the next instalment of instruction.
What is all this doing for the child?
The teacher seldom asks himself this question.

If he did, he would answer it by saying that the end of education is to enable the child to produce certain outward and visible results,--to do by himself what he has often done, either in imitation of his teacher, or in obedience to his repeated directions; to say by himself what he has said many times in chorus with his class-mates; to disgorge some fragments of the information with which he has been crammed; and so forth.

What may be the value of these outward results, what they indicate, what amount or kind of mental (or other) growth may be behind them,--are questions which the teacher cannot afford to consider, even if he felt inclined to ask them.

His business is to drill the child into the mechanical production of quasi-material results; and his success in doing this will be gauged in due course by an "examination,"-- a periodic test which is designed to measure, not the degree of growth which the child has made, but the industry of the teacher as indicated by the receptivity of his class.
The truth is that inward and spiritual growth, even if it were thought desirable to produce it and measure it, could not possibly be measured.

The real "results" of education are in the child's heart and mind and soul, beyond the reach of any measuring tape or weighing machine.