struggle now to begin? The next question that came was, naturally, Who
and what am I, then? and his thoughts plunged at once into a gulf where
they had often lost themselves before.

His boyhood had passed away unheeding, and he had attached no importance
to his previous fate, nor made any effort to impress upon his own
recollection the circumstances which preceded the period of his
reception into the Earl's house. Indeed, he had never thought much upon
the matter, till at length, when he had reached the age of fifteen, the
Earl had kindly and judiciously spoken with him upon his future
prospects; and in order to stimulate him to exertion, had pointed out to
him that his fortunes depended on himself. He had then, for the first
time, asked himself, "Who and what am I?" and had striven to recollect
as much as possible of the past, in order to gather thence some
knowledge of the present. His efforts had not been very successful.

Time, the great destroyer, envies even memory the power of preserving
images of the things that he has done away or altered; and he is sure,
if possible, to deface the pictures altogether, or to leave the lines
less clear. With Wilton he had done much to blot out and to confuse. At
first, memory seemed all a blank beyond the period of his schoolboy
days; but gradually one image after another rose out of the void, and
one called up another as they came. Still they were clouded and
indistinct, like the vague phantoms of a dream. It was with great
difficulty that he recollected any names, and could not at all tell in
what land it was, that some of the brightest of his memories lay. It was
all unconnected, too, with the present, and from it Wilton could derive
no clue in regard to the great change that was coming. Between him and
the future there appeared to hang a dark pall, which his eye could not
penetrate, but behind which was Fate. He tried to combat such feelings: