‘Amisit Astrologos, et Magos, et Vates, Beelzebub et Ashtaroth proprios Penates, Tenebrarum consulens per suos Potestates Spreverat Ecclesiam, et mundi Magnates.’ When we remember that Michael Scot was the man whom Frederick loved to consult and employ, we understand what effect this depreciation of the master’s fame must have had on that of his servant. If the Emperor made Beelzebub and Ashtaroth his gods, Scot must soon have been recognised as the go-between in this infernal business. Such an impression would naturally be heightened by the recollection of the years which had been spent by Michael Scot at Toledo and Cordova. We have already noticed the dark reputation which attached to the former of these places. It is only needful here to add that Scot’s ecclesiastical character would by no means hinder the unfavourable inference that must have been drawn from his lengthened residence in the chief seat of magical study. St. Giles before his conversion, and Gerbert, afterwards Pope Sylvester II., were commonly reported to have learned the black art at Toledo. As to Cordova, the _Picatrix_ mentions the discovery of a magic book in the Church there,[268] which shows that the supernatural fame of Toledo attached itself also to this city. It is far from improbable that the nature of Scot’s studies in these places may have inclined men to believe in the stories told of him as a necromancer. He spent his time upon Arabic texts, and, with the fanatical clergy, not to speak of the common people whom they taught, the Moors and all their works were accursed. No one could meddle much with them save at the cost of such accusations of diabolic dealing. Nor was it merely the language but also the very subject of Scot’s studies that was suspicious. Since the days of the Alexandrian school there had grown up round the name of Aristotle a strange legend which represented him as a magician; none other than the great sorcerer Nectanebus of Egypt, the true father, by an infamous sleight, of Alexander of Macedon.[269]