He was a very prodigy in music.
But apart from that he was a complete idiot, and had been so from his
birth. After his death a gentleman who knew him well wrote a sketch of
his life. In the noble, concluding words of that article I think we
would all heartily join, be our creed what it may. The writer says of
Tom: "Blind, deformed, and black, as black as Erebus--idiocy, the
idiocy of a mysterious, perpetual frenzy, the sole companion of his
waking visions and his dreams--whence came he, and was he, and
wherefore? That there was a soul there, be sure, imprisoned, chained, in
that little black bosom, released at last; gone to the angels, not to
imitate the seraph-songs of heaven, but to join the Choir Invisible for
ever and for ever."
Surely this abnormal gift of the poor idiot is a strong suggestion of
his immortality. We refuse to think of that divine spark being quenched
in everlasting night. And it is almost more impossible to imagine a
wholly irresponsible being like him, yet endowed with such a divine
gift, being consigned to endless torment. What remains, then, for him
but a part in the better world? Yet he was by no means fit for that
better world. Is there not then almost forced upon us the idea of a
preliminary stage of education? And if that is so in his case, is it
not more or less required in the case of every one of us? Think the
matter over seriously, and see where it will land you.
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