Read Ebook: An Enquiry into the Life and Legend of Michael Scot by Brown J Wood James Wood

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It was in such a direction indeed that the line of true progress lay. As alchemy rose into a real chemistry rather by the practice of the laboratory than by the theory of the schools, so it was with regard to astronomy. The scheme of Ptolemy with its various modifications necessarily held the field, imperfect and erroneous as it was, till wider and more exact observations, such as those for which the wise king of Castile thus provided had, in the course of after ages, furnished adequate ground for the magical and illuminative speculations of Copernicus, Galileo, and Newton.

Considering then the epoch at which he lived, and the incomplete material which existed in his days for a true science of the heavens, Michael Scot did all that could be reasonably expected of him. He sat at the feet of those who were then the best authorities on this subject. He used his opportunities at Toledo to make the last and most subtle theories of the Moors intelligible to those less fortunate scholars whose attention these must otherwise have escaped.

These improved methods of calculation were soon applied to astronomy. Al Mamun, whose reign commenced in the year 813, summoned an assembly of scholars learned in that science. They met in the great Babylonian plain, having chosen that place as suitable for their observations, and measured the declination of the ecliptic, which they determined to be 23? 33?. About the same time the secular motion of the heavens began to attract attention. Albategni corrected the observations of Ptolemy here, and showed that the retrograde movement amounted to one degree, not in a century as the Greek philosopher had said, but in a shorter period which is variously stated as sixty-six or seventy years. Alfargan repeated this calculation, and amended that relating to the declination of the ecliptic, which he computed at 23? 35?.

Thus then we return to the preface of Alpetrongi prepared to understand his position when he declares himself obliged to depart from previous traditions. He proceeds to avow himself a scholar of Azarchel, but when we examine his work we find that the theory he proposes differs considerably even from that taught by his immediate master. It was one which, through the labours of Michael Scot, as translator of Alpetrongi, exercised no small influence on the study of astronomy among the Latins, and we may well spend a moment in considering the chief features which it presents.

Another matter which exercised the minds of those who studied the heavens was the difference of elevation which the heavenly bodies showed according to the seasons of summer and winter. The sun, for example, at noonday of the summer solstice stood, they saw, at his highest point in the heavens, while he sank to his lowest on the shortest day of winter. Between these extremes he held gradually every intermediate position, and as he was meanwhile supposed to be moving in a circular path round the earth, his course came to be conceived of as a spiral alternately rising and declining. How was this spiral motion to be explained?

Such were the contributions of this philosopher to the astronomy of his time. They were the fruit, he assures us, of patient study of the ancients, and specially of Aristotle and his commentators. He offered them to his age as a distinct improvement on the cumbrous theories of Ptolemy, and as an advance even upon that of Azarchel, whom, in the main, he acknowledges as his master in science. Antiquated and childish as his explanations may seem to us, we cannot help feeling that he had at least grasped firmly some of the chief problems of the sky. He stood in the line of that inquiry and patient progress which have issued in the marvellous discoveries of later times.

SCOT TRANSLATES AVERRO?S

We have already noticed how the commentaries of Avicenna on Aristotle had been translated into Latin at Toledo during the twelfth century, and how Michael Scot had completed that work by his version of the books relating to Natural History. Since the beginning of the thirteenth century, however, another Arabian author of the first rank had become the object of much curiosity in Europe. This was the famous Averro?s of Cordova, whose history might fill a volume, so full was it of romantic adventure and literary interest. He was but lately dead, having closed a long and laborious life on the 10th of December 1198, at Morocco, where his body was first laid to rest in the cemetery outside the gate of Tagazout. Born at Cordova in 1126, his name was closely associated with that of his native city, so that after three months had elapsed his corpse was brought thither from Africa, and given honourable and final burial in the tomb of his fathers at the cemetery of Ibn Abbas.

Two reasons combined to raise the fame of Averro?s among the Latins, and to inspire them with a high curiosity regarding his works. He was known to have devoted his life to the study and exposition of Aristotle; then, as for many ages, the idol of the Christian schools. His philosophy was further understood to embody the strangest and most daring speculations regarding the origin of the universe and the nature of the soul. For these he had suffered severely at the hands of the Moslem orthodox. They had proscribed his works and compelled him to leave his employment and pass the most precious years of his life in exile.

It is plain that the way to this consummation proposed by Averro?s had much in common with the ancient theories of the Alexandrian Gnosis. The Albigenses and other sects of the time, especially that called the Brotherhood of the Holy Ghost, had already done much to familiarise the West with these essentially Eastern speculations. A taste for such flights of the mind had been formed, and, as soon as it became known that a new teacher had arisen to advocate a theory of this kind among the Moors, Christianity too was alive with curiosity to know what the doctrine of Averro?s might be.

The probability that the Emperor had early felt an interest in Averro?s is confirmed by a curious statement of Gilles de Rome, who tells us that the sons of the Moorish philosopher received a cordial welcome from Frederick and lived in honour at his Court. Renan indeed finds reason to doubt the truth of this statement, yet we may remember that the chronicler could not in any case have ventured upon it unless the Emperor's sympathy for Averro?s had been matter of common knowledge.

The sole glory which Cordova still retained in the days when Scot visited it was the memory of departed greatness, and of Averro?s, whose fame must yet have endured as a living tradition in the place of his birth and burial. We may therefore believe that it was as a pilgrim to the shrine of that illustrious name that the traveller came hither. As he wandered amid the countless columns of the great Mosque, or stayed his steps by the tomb of Ibn Abbas, he must have found a melancholy pleasure in recalling the mighty past, when these aisles were crowded with eager students and when, still later, the last scion of the Cordovan schools had appeared in the person of the Master whose writings were now the object of so much curiosity. It is quite possible that something of a practical purpose may have combined with these sentiments to determine the direction of Scot's journey. Twenty years had not passed, we must remember, since the body of Averro?s was laid in its last resting-place. What if those who directed and composed the solemn funeral procession from Morocco to Cordova had brought with them the books which the philosopher was engaged in completing at the time of his death? The hope of a great literary discovery could hardly have been absent from the mind of Michael Scot as he travelled southward to seek the white walls of the Moorish city.

There is no reason to think that the story of the spell framed by Scot at Cordova was literally and historically true; it seems to belong rather to the department of his legendary fame as a necromancer. Yet, read as a parable, this conjuration is not without interest and perhaps importance. It professes to compel the appearance of spirits from the nether deep, and to command an answer to any question the sage or student might choose to ask. A slight effort of fancy will find here the picturesque representation of Scot's mental and physical state while at Cordova, and especially under the stress of the illness from which we are assured he then suffered. What wonder if, in the vertigo of fever, he felt prisoned with swimming brain in magic circles; or is it strange that one so intent upon the doctrine of the departed Averro?s should, in the height of his delirium, have planned to force the grave itself, and summon the dead philosopher to tell the secret of his lost works? Something of the Greek ????????, something terrible, superhuman almost, we discover in a spirit so fully roused and determined, and if we have read rightly the mind of Scot, no wonder that he and the Emperor were fully at one in regard to what they had to do. We have no means of knowing which of the two first conceived the idea of translating the works of Averro?s: as master and servant they fairly share the fame of that great enterprise. It was one which demanded, not only means, talent, and unwearied labour, but high courage as well, considering the suspect character of that philosophy and the censures under which it already lay. In the event indeed this proved to be a matter highly creditable to those who promoted it, but one which carried serious and far-reaching consequences both for Michael Scot and for the Emperor himself in the ecclesiastical and political sphere.

When Scot returned to Toledo it was not with the purpose of attempting single-handed a task for which not only time, but the co-operation of several scholars, was evidently necessary. There is reason to think that the Emperors commission conveyed some instruction to this effect; for, as a matter of fact, we know that at least two other hands were associated with Scot in the translation of Averro?s.

It is not impossible that Philip of Tripoli may have joined in the new enterprise. His name does not indeed appear in any of the manuscripts which contain the Latin Averro?s, but we have seen that he was certainly in Spain about this time and even at work with Gerard of Cremona. His intimate relation to Michael Scot is also beyond question, and, upon the whole, it seems reasonable to suppose that the Emperor may have engaged him to help in the work now going forward.

This correspondence between the earlier and later schools of Toledo is even more close and exact than we have yet observed. It appears also in the fact that a Jewish interpreter was attached to each, and rendered important service as a member of the college. Under Don Raymon this place was held by Johannes Avendeath, or Johannes Hispalensis as he is commonly called, who worked along with the Archdeacon. 'You have then,' says Avendeath, addressing the Archbishop, 'the book which has been translated from the Arabic according to your commands: I reading it word by word into the vernacular , and Dominic the Archdeacon rendering my words one by one into Latin.' The same division of labour seems to have been followed in the new school which Frederick promoted. The Emperor drew the attention of these learned men to Averro?s, and signified his desire that a version of this author should be prepared like that which had been made from Avicenna. Michael Scot and Gerard of Cremona were responsible, the former probably in a special sense, both for the general conduct of the undertaking, and, in particular, for the accuracy of the Latin. Now these scholars also, like their predecessors, availed themselves of the help of a Jewish interpreter. This was one Andrew Alphagirus, who seems to have taken the same part that Avendeath had formerly done, by translating the Arabic of Averro?s into current Spanish, which Scot and his coadjutor then rendered into Latin.

It is from a remark made by Roger Bacon that we know the first name of the Toledan interpreter to have been Andrew, and that he was a Jew. Bacon gives us this information in no kindly spirit, but in order to lead up to the bitter conclusion that Scot's work was not original, but borrowed from one whose labours and just fame he had appropriated. 'Michael Scot,' he says, 'was ignorant of languages and science alike. Almost all that has appeared in his name was taken from a certain Jew called Andrew.'

This correspondence throws a clear light upon the case of Michael Scot in regard to the charge of plagiarism. Like Master Peter, he was familiar with both the Latin and the Arabic language. His weak point, however, we may suppose to have made itself felt with regard to the latter, which he probably knew better in its colloquial than its literary form, and this must have been the reason why he availed himself of the aid of a Spanish Jew to secure the accuracy of his work. Such collaboration seems to have produced nearly all the previous versions which came from Toledo, and it is obvious that the honour due to the various contributors who combined in forming these translations can only be determined by those who have it in their power to make a careful and unprejudiced valuation of their individual labours in each case. We may gravely doubt whether this was what Bacon did before he sat down to pen his sharp censure on Michael Scot. Certainly such an estimate is now out of the question. We can only affirm the undoubted fact that the critic was wrong when he said Scot did not know Arabic. The contrary appears, not only from the probability we have already drawn from his Sicilian residence, but by actual testimony of a very honourable kind. Nor must we forget to notice that the openness with which this copartnery was carried on affords a proof that no deceit could have been thought of in the matter. Considering the past history of the Toledan School, it must have been taken for granted that every version which came from thence under the name of a Christian scholar owed something to the care of his Moorish scribe.

Even had we not been able to make such an appeal to the use and wont of the times in vindication of Scot's method of work, might not a little consideration of what was natural and inevitable in such a task have served to explain what Bacon found so objectionable? The scholars from distant lands who came to Toledo could not, as a rule, afford to spend much time there, and were anxious to use every moment of their stay to the best advantage. They naturally therefore secured on their arrival the services of a Jew or Moor for the purpose of learning Arabic. Needing a knowledge of that tongue not so much in its colloquial as its literary dialect, they must have been engaged from the first in the study of a text rather than in conversing with their teachers. What then could have been more suitable than that these scholars should begin by attacking the very books of which they desired to furnish a Latin version? This method had the merit of gaining two objects at once. The students learned to read Arabic, following the text as it was translated to them by the interpreter. Writing in Latin from his vernacular, and polishing as they wrote, they engaged from the day of their arrival in the very work of translation which had brought them to Spain. It is plain too that any modification of this method which the case of Michael Scot might demand would depend on the knowledge of Arabic he already possessed. It must therefore have been such as left him more and not less credit in the result of his labours than that which commonly belonged to the Christian translators in Toledo.

'It is, in fact, the notion that forms could be created which has led some philosophers to suppose that forms have a substantive existence of their own, and that there is a separate source of these. The same error has infected all the three religions of our day, leading their divines to assert that nothing can produce something. Starting from this principle our theologians have supposed the existence of one Agent producing without intermediary all kinds of creatures; an Agent whose action proceeds by an infinity of opposite and contradictory acts done simultaneously. In this way of thinking it is not fire that burns, nor water that moistens; all proceeds by a direct act of the Creator. Nay more, when a man throws a stone, these teachers attribute the consequent motion not to the man but to the universal Agent, and thus deny any true human activity.

'There is even a more astounding corollary of this doctrine; for if God can cause that which is not to enter into being, He can also reduce being to nothing; destruction, like generation, is God's work, and Death itself has been created by Him. But in our way of thinking destruction is like generation. Each created thing contains in itself its own corruption, which is present with it potentially. In order to destroy, just as to create, it is only necessary for the Agent to call this potentiality into activity. We must in short maintain as co-ordinate principles both the Agent and these potential powers. Were one of the two wanting, nothing could exist at all, or else all being would reduce itself to action; either of which consequences is as absurd as the other.'

SCOT AGAIN AT COURT

The return of Michael Scot from Spain to the Imperial Court was doubtless a striking moment, not only in the life of the philosopher himself, but in the history of letters. He then appeared fresh from a great enterprise, and bringing with him the proofs of its success in the form of the Latin Averro?s. We cannot doubt that his reception was worthy of the occasion and of one who had served his master so faithfully.

Frederick was now returned to his dominions in the south. He had established his imperial rights in Germany at the cost of a campaign in which the pretensions of Otho were successfully overcome, and, on his return homeward in 1220, he had received the crown once more in Rome at the hands of the supreme ecclesiastical authority. His progress was indeed a continual scene of triumph. Arrived at Palermo, the court gave itself up to feasting and gaiety of every kind.

'Quell'altro, che ne' fianchi ? cos? poco, Michele Scotto fu.'

We may suspect indeed that the fashion of Scot's dress was more than simply Spanish; for the mode of Aragon at least must surely have been too familiar at Frederick's court to excite so much attention. The philosopher had lived long in close company with the Moors of Toledo and Cordova. What he wore was probably no mere fragment of Eastern fashion but the complete costume of an Arabian sage. The flowing robes, the close-girt waist, the pointed cap, were not unknown in Sicily where there was still a considerable Moorish population, yet they must have sat strangely enough upon Scot when once he declared himself for what he was: the reverend ecclesiastic, the Master of Paris, the native of the far north.

If the philosopher did not actually take such extreme measures with the creatures of his brain and pen, the versions he brought to Sicily were at least suppressed in the meantime, being concealed in the imperial closet till a more suitable opportunity should occur for their publication. This done, their author devoted himself to pursuits less likely to attract unfavourable notice than those in which he had been lately engaged.

The place and duty which most naturally offered themselves to Scot were those of the Court Astrologer. We have seen him occupied in this way already, before he left Palermo for Spain, and there seems no reason to doubt the tradition which says that such was indeed the standing occupation of his life, and one which he resumed at once on his return. To this application of celestial science the opinion of the times attached no sinister interpretation, and Scot, finding himself the object of suspicion on account of his late studies and achievements, must have fallen back with a sense of security, strange as it may seem, upon the casting of horoscopes and the forming of presages founded on the flight of birds and the motion of animals.

We shall probably commit no error in assuming that the astrological views of Scot at this period were substantially the same as those embodied in his earlier writings on that subject. In after ages they were severely censured by Pico della Mirandola, who says of Scot's doctrine concerning the stellar images: 'These invisible forms can be discerned neither by the senses nor by right reason, and there is no agreement regarding them by their inventors, who were not the Chaldeans or Indians but only the Arabs.' ... 'Michael Scot mentions all these as things most effectual, and with him agree many astrologers, both Arabian and Latin. I had heard somewhat of this doctrine, and thought at first that it was meant merely as a convenient means of mapping out the sky, and not that these figures actually existed in the heavens....' 'From the Greeks astrology passed to the Arabs and was taught with ever-growing assurance....' 'Aboasar, a grammarian and historical writer, took this science from the Greeks, corrupting it with countless trifling fables, and made thereof an astrology much worse than that of Ptolemy....' 'In those days the study of mathematics, like that of philosophy in general, made great progress in Spain under King Alphonso, a keen student in the calculus, especially as applied to the movements of the heavenly bodies. He had also a taste for the vain arts of the Diviner, having learned no better; and to please him in this many of the most important treatises of that kind, both Greek and Arabic, have been handed down to our own day, chiefly by the labours of Johannes Hispalensis and Michael Scot, the latter of whom was an author of no weight and full of superstition. Albertus Magnus at first was somewhat carried away with this doctrine, for it came with the power of novelty to his inexperienced youth, but I rather think that his opinions suffered change in later life.' Mirandola belonged to another age than that of Scot, when purer conceptions of astronomical science were already beginning to prevail, but the very opinions he condemned held a real relation to that progress. They encouraged in early times, as may be seen in the case of Alphonso himself, a study of the heavenly motions without which no true advance could have been made.

This point once reached, a further advance soon became inevitable. Attention had been called to a deeper source of medical knowledge than that generally possessed in the West. Learned men, whose tastes led them this way, naturally sought to inform their minds by procuring translations of the Arabic works on medicine. The just fame of Salerno, a medical school which had been founded in the closing years of the eleventh century by Robert Guiscard, depended on the intelligent zeal with which this plan of research was then pursued. The kingdom of Sicily indeed occupies as important a place in the progress of the healing art as Spain itself does with regard to the history of philosophy and of science in general.

It is possible that the great plague which fell upon Palermo at the time of Frederick's marriage may have been, in part at least, the occasion of that interest which both the Emperor and his astrologer took in the healing art. These epidemics, which in several of their most fatal forms are now only known by tradition, were the dreaded scourge of the Middle Ages; their prevalence being no doubt due to the rude and insanitary habits of life which were then universal. We read of another infectious sickness which attacked Frederick and his crusaders when they were on the point of sailing from Brindisi in 1227. The season was one of terrible heat, so great indeed that one chronicle says the rays of the sun melted solid metal! Lying in the confinement of their galleys on an unhealthy coast the troops suffered severely. At last rain fell, but immediately poisonous damps arose from the steaming soil, and the plague began to show itself. Two bishops and the Landgrave of Thuringia were among the victims of the pestilence, and very many of the crusaders died. Frederick himself ran considerable risk of his life. Against the advice of his physician he had exposed himself to the sun in the course of his journey to Brindisi. After three days with the fleet he was obliged to return on account of the state of his health, when he at once went to the waters at Pozzuoli, which proved a successful cure. Michael Scot must have entered into these affairs with a large concern and responsibility for his master's health, and we shall think much of the importance and consequence he enjoyed at this time when we remember that the chief object of his care as a physician was the life of one on whom interests that were more than European then depended.

THE LAST DAYS OF MICHAEL SCOT

The various occupations in which Michael Scot engaged upon his return to court were not without their due and, as we believe, designed effect. The part he had taken in producing the Latin Averro?s was soon forgotten when it appeared that no immediate publication of these proscribed works was intended by the Emperor. Scot now stood boldly before the world in no suspicious character; distinguished only by his great learning and the fidelity with which he discharged his offices of astrologer and physician about the Imperial person.

The application to Canterbury was entirely in accordance with the habits of the time; for England was then the constant resource of the Popes when they wished to confer a favour on any of their clergy. Many and deep were the complaints which this practice awakened among the priesthood of the north. A like abuse of influence appeared in Scotland as well. Theiner reports the case of a clerk named Peter, the son of Count George of Cabaliaca, on whose behalf the Pope wrote in 1259 to the Canons of St. Andrews, desiring that he might be reinstated in his benefice of Chinachim which he had forfeited as an adherent of the Empire. It is only fair, however, to notice that there were instances of the contrary practice. In 1218, for example, one Matthew, a Scot, was recommended by Honorius to the University of Paris for the degree of Doctor, that he might teach there in the faculty of Divinity.

There is reason to think that from this time a change took place in the spirit of the philosopher. The natural chagrin he must have felt as it became plain that no position he could accept would be offered to him in the Church affected deeply his fine and sensitive nature. He soon passed into a brooding and despondent mood, which remained unaffected by all the praise and fame paid by the learned world as a tribute to his remarkable talents and achievements. It is in this change of temper to a morbid depression that we are to find the occasion and inspiring spirit of those strange prophetical verses which bear his name and which differ so widely from all the other productions of his pen.

Quotations from the prophecies of Scot were made by Villani. The lines referring to Florence may still be read in a manuscript of the Riccardian Library in that city, and in another, preserved in Padua, we find the following title: 'Here begin certain prophecies of Michael Scot, the most illustrious astrologer of Lord Frederick the Emperor, which declare somewhat of the future, to wit, of certain Italian cities.' This shows that verses, bearing to have been composed by Scot, were current at an early date, though the scribe of the Paduan manuscript has forgotten to fulfil the promise he makes in his title, for that which follows it is not the poetry of Scot but only a dull treatise on Latin prosody.

It is to Salimbene that we owe the preservation of these verses in their most complete form. He must have taken much interest in them, as he is careful to give, not only the original Latin, but an Italian translation as well. From his pages then we shall borrow the text of these curious lines. According to Salimbene they are these:

'Regis vexilla timens, fugiet velamina Brixa, Et suos non poterit filios, propriosque, tueri. Brixia stans fortis secundi certamine Regis, Post Mediolani sternentur moenia gryphi. Mediolanum territum cruore fervido necis, Resuscitabit viso cruore mortis. In numeris errantes erunt atque silvestres. Deinde Vercellus veniunt Novaria Laudum. Affuerit dies, quod aegra Papia erit, Vastata curabitur moesta dolore flendo. Munera quae meruit diu parata vicinis, Pavida mandatis parebit Placentia Regis. Oppressa resiliet, passa damnosa strage, Cum fuerit unita in firmitate manebit. Placentia patebit grave pondus sanguine mixtum. Parma parens viret, totisque frondibus uret Serpens in obliquo tumido, exitque draconi. Parma, Regi parens, tumida percutiet illum Vipera Draconem, Florumque virescet amoenum. Tu ipsa Cremona patieris flammae dolorem In fine praedito, conscia tanti mali, Et Regis partes insimul mala verba tenebunt. Paduae magnatum plorabunt filii necem Duram et horrendam, datam catuloque Veronae. Marchia succumbet, gravi servitute coacta Ob viam Antenoris quamque secuti erunt. Languida resurget, catulo moriente, Verona. Mantua, vae tibi, tanto dolore plena, Cur ne vacillas nam tui pars ruet? Ferraria fallax, fides falsa nil tibi prodiat, Subire te cunctis cum tua facta ruent Peregre missura quos tua mala parant Faventia iniet tecum, videns tentoria pacem Corruet in festem ducto velamine pacis. Bononia renuens ipsam vastabitur agmine circa Sed dabit immensum, purgato agmine, censum. Mutina fremescet sibi certando sub lima Quae dico tepescet tandem trahetur ad ima. Pergami deorsum excelsa moenia cadent Rursus, et amoris ascendet stimulus arcem. Trivisii duae partes offerent non signa salutis Gaudia fugantes vexilla praebenda ruinae. Roma diu titubans, longis terroribus acta Corruet, et mundi desinet esse caput. Fata monent, stellaeque docent, aviumque volatus, Quod Fridericus malleus orbis erit. Vivet Draco magnus cum immenso turbine mundi. Fata silent, stellaeque tacent, aviumque volatus Quod Petri navis desinet esse caput. Reviviscet Mater: malleabit caput Draconis. Non diu stolida florebit Florentia florum. Corruet in feudum dissimulando vivet. Venecia aperiet venas, percutiet undique Regem. Infra millenos ducenos sexque decennos Erunt sedata immensa turbina mundi Morietur Gripho, aufugient undique pennae.'

It would be difficult to determine how much of the original composition of Scot these verses preserve, and how much they owe to later hands. We cannot be mistaken, however, in remarking their uniform tone of melancholy and apprehension, with the burden of its constantly recurring 'corruet,' or in taking this as a true index to the state of the author's mind.

The other prediction which the chronicler attributes to Scot relates to the occasion of his own death. This, he said, would take place by the blow of a stone falling on his head. His calculations were so exact as even to furnish him with the precise weight of this instrument of fate. Being in church one day, with head uncovered at the sacring of the Mass, a stone, agreeing in all particulars with his prediction, was shaken from the tower by the motion of the bellrope and wounded Scot to death.

We seem to see in him a Pascal of the thirteenth century; and this all the more that Michael Scot resembled that great genius not only in the mystical and superstitious side of his nature but in his devotion to mathematical science. How piquant is the contrast between this mighty and gifted child of the mist and the northern hills and those sunny southern lands of grape and fig, of white cliff, marble column and laughing summer sea, where most of his life was spent. No wonder that those among whom Michael Scot lived found him somewhat of a mystery at all times, and, especially in these later days of his burdened spirit, took him for a Mage, weaving his dark sayings into regular prophecies. The Latin races have never been famous for their power to comprehend the northern character. How much less was it likely they should in the case of one who seems to have presented every feature of that racial type in its extremest form? In our own day this incapacity takes the way of accusing as madness all that it cannot fathom of Celtic or Teutonic ways. In the times of Scot the same impatience found a more modest expression. He was incomprehensible, therefore he must be inspired; gifted with the prophet's divine and incommunicable fire.

We may take it for granted that much of Michael Scot's dissatisfaction and depression upon his disappointment in seeking ecclesiastical preferment arose from the feeling that he had made a great sacrifice in vain. The best years of his life, and the most strenuous labours of his mind, had been given to his version of Averro?s not without the hope that he was here laying the foundation of a great literary and philosophic fame. Moved by a prudence, which was not altogether selfish since it concerned the Emperor's reputation and policy quite as much as his own, he had submitted to necessity, and saw his translation suppressed for the sake of avoiding offence. The sacrifice was great and doubtless keenly felt, and when in spite of this policy he found himself still without the position he had confidently hoped for, with what bitterness must the reawakening of his literary ambition have been attended. Near ten years had been lost since his return from Spain, and still Scot's Averro?s slept, unknown to the schools, in the honourable but unprofitable seclusion of the Imperial closet. With the death of these hopes of preferment, however, all reason for this unfortunate reserve came to an end so far as Scot was concerned. As soon as he had once made up his mind to think no more of a great ecclesiastical career he was free to urge his master with all insistence to carry out their long-cherished plan, and secure undying fame for both by publishing the new Aristotle in the Universities of Europe.

This plan not only promised to fulfil a long cherished desire and mortify an implacable foe, it must also have presented itself in the light of a welcome concession made to a deserving servant of the Crown. Michael Scot had laboured long to form the works in question. His interest, as well as every other reason, now demanded that they should lie no longer concealed. The fame he was certain to gain by this publication would be the best consolation, perhaps the only one now possible, for his disappointments in the ecclesiastical career. To employ him actively in the matter may well have appeared not only just, considering his previous interest in it, but the best cure for a spirit sadly disordered and depressed. We need not wonder that Frederick at last fully formed his resolution, or that he chose Michael Scot as the means of carrying out a publication that was now definitely determined on.

Which then were the universities intended by the Emperor? That of Naples certainly in the first place, for it was his own creation. Bologna, also, we may believe, judging by the estimation in which we know him to have held that still more ancient seat of learning. Copies of Frederick's letter are indeed extant, which actually bear the address, 'To the Masters and Scholars of Bologna.' Nor can we think that he forgot Paris, the great centre of European culture. At least one text has preserved this the most natural of all directions:--'To the Doctors of the Quadrivium at Paris.' Thus far then the course of Scot's journey on this important business is plain. In it he but reversed the progress he had made in early years, revisiting in the contrary order the scenes of his former studies. His own remarkable fame, the widespread curiosity concerning the books he brought, and his official character as Frederick's Ambassador of Letters, must have secured him everywhere a cordial and distinguished reception.

There is reason to think that his travels did not end when he had reached Paris. Tradition says he crossed the Channel and visited both England and Scotland, where his medical skill was highly appreciated. It is indeed to an English author that we owe the knowledge of this journey performed by Michael Scot. The words of Roger Bacon are of capital importance here, not only telling us of Scot's travels, but showing the nature of the work he carried with him in that progress, and the enthusiasm with which these books were received. 'In the days of Michael Scot,' he says, 'who, about the year 1230, made his appearance with certain books of Aristotle and commentaries of learned men concerning physics and mathematics, the Aristotelian philosophy became celebrated in the Latin Schools.' At the time of which he speaks, Bacon, born in 1214, may probably have been at Oxford pursuing his studies. It is not necessary to dwell upon the support which this brings to the tradition of Scot's visit to England. We may take it as almost certain that Oxford was one of the universities where he appeared and was made welcome.

The tradition that he thereafter pursued his journey to Scotland rests rather upon arguments derived from the probability of the case than from direct evidence. Scot had been a lifetime absent from his native land, and, finding himself so near it, a strong impulse must have urged him to revisit the scenes of his boyhood. Nor is it easy to account for the fact that his fame, though he spent so much of his time abroad, attained, and yet retains, such a currency in the North, except upon the supposition that he did actually yield to this attraction and thus once more made himself a familiar figure in the land of his birth.

One matter of great interest is at least certain. Scot's death occurred just at this time, when he was in the very height of his fame and influence, and probably while he was still in the North. The account, so often repeated and reprinted, which makes him live almost to the close of the century need not occupy our attention more than a moment. Already incredible from the time when Jourdain discovered that Scot's version of Alpetrongi had been produced in 1217, such a notion becomes more than ever impossible since we have been able to carry the time of his mature literary activity back to the year 1210. Vincent of Beauvais, writing about 1245, talks of 'old Michael Scot' in such a way as to suggest that he had by that time been long in his grave. But the convincing evidence, though hitherto little noticed, is to be found in the poem of Henry d'Avranches, from which we have already quoted some lines in another connection. This author remarks regarding Michael Scot:

'Thus he who questioned fate, to fate himself submitted,'

which shows that the time of his death must have been earlier than 1235, the date when Abrincensis composed his poem.

The question is thus reduced to the narrow limit of five years; since Bacon says Scot was alive and busy in his great mission in 1230. Within this period he must have passed away, and probably his death happened nearer the earlier than the later date; considering the tone in which Henry d'Avranches speaks of the departed sage. He may well therefore have died while on the borders of Scotland. This idea agrees curiously with the fact that Italy has no tradition of his burial-place, while on the other hand northern story points to his tomb in Melrose Abbey, Glenluce, Holme Coltrame, or some other of the great Cistercian foundations of that country. Satchells, who visited Burgh-under-Bowness in 1629, found a guide named Lancelot Scot, who took him to the parish church, where he saw the great scholar's tomb, and found it still the object of mysterious awe to the people there. The resting-place of Michael Scot will never now be accurately known, but there is every reason to suppose that it lies not far from that of his birth, in the sweet Borderland, amid the green hills and flowing streams of immemorial story.

Here then we leave the life that has been the subject of our study, and not without the tribute of a certain envy paid to so happy a fate as that of Michael Scot. Like another and far greater man, whose sepulchre also was not known among his people, Scot died in the fulness of his powers and fame, while yet his sight was not dim, nor his natural force abated. He was denied indeed the entry to those broad kingdoms of knowledge which later times enjoy, but we may truly think of him as one who stood in his own day upon a height from which something of that fair land of promise could at least be divined, and manfully did his part in leading the progress of the human mind onward to those more perfect attainments now within the reach of every patient scholar.

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