lt of any revengeful spirit on the part of Sir Guy,
the chronicler goes on further to state his motives--that, after his
marriage, considering what he had done for a woman's sake, he thought to
spend the other part of his life for God's sake, and so departed from
his lady in pilgrim weeds, which raiment he kept to his life's end.
After wandering about a good many years he settled in a hermitage, in a
place not far from the castle, called Guy's Cliff, and when his lady
distributed food to beggars at the castle gate, was in the habit of
coming among them to receive alms, without making himself known to her.
It states, moreover, that two days before his death an angel informed
him of the time of his departure, and that his lady would die a
fortnight after him, which happening accordingly, they were both buried
in the grave together. A romantic cavern, at the place called Guy's
Cliff, is shown as the dwelling of the recluse. The story is a curious
relic of the religious ideas of the times.

On our way from the castle we passed by Guy's Cliff, which is at present
the seat of the Hon. C.B. Percy. The establishment looked beautifully
from the road, as we saw it up a long avenue of trees; it is one of the
places travellers generally examine, but as we were bound for Kenilworth
we were content to take it on trust. It is but a short drive from there
to Kenilworth. We got there about the middle of the afternoon.
Kenilworth has been quite as extensive as Warwick, though now entirely
gone to ruins. I believe Oliver Cromwell's army have the credit of
finally dismantling it. Cromwell seems literally to have left his mark
on his generation, for I never saw a ruin in England when I did not hear
that he had something to do with it. Every broken arch and ruined
battlement seemed always to find a sufficient account of itself by
simply enunciating the word Cromwell. And when we see how much the
Puritans arrayed against themselves all the aesthetic principles of our
nature, we can somewhat pardon those who did not look deeper than the
surface, for the prejudice with which they regarded the whole movement;
a movement, however, of which we, and all which is most precious to us,
are the lineal descendants and heirs.

We wandered over the ruins, which are very extensive, and which Scott,
with his usual vivacity and accuracy, has restored and repeopled. We
climbed up into Amy Robsart's chamber; we scrambled into one of the
arched windows of what