The Academic Gregories

by Agnes Grainger Stewart

In the teaching of his class Professor Gregory daily felt the need for his students of a new book on the Theory of Medicine, so he wrote the Conspectus Medicinae Theoreticae which proved such a valuable handbook on the subject. This book was most successful, it passed through many editions, was translated into English and several other languages, was used sometimes as a medical book and sometimes as a Latin text, for the Latin was as much admired as the information which it imparted. Considering the success of this volume, it is surprising that this was James Gregory’s only medical publication: he alas wrote many books afterwards, but with the exception of some chapters on philology and some literary essays, he wrote nothing but controversial works, prodigiously long, violent, personal, and acrid; their only excuse that they were never written for selfish ends and their only merit that they were a source of infinite amusement to the general public.

Gregory lived in his father’s old house, No. 15 Canongate, and to this home he brought his first wife, the gentle Galloway girl, called Mary Ross, whose companionship was his, for such a short time in life’s journey. She died in 1784. In the years following her death he resumed his early classical studies, and it is a rather curious fact that he wrote nearly all the Latin epitaphs or dedications which were wanted for any purpose in Edinburgh from this time till his death. Principal Shairp, referring to Burns’ meeting with Gregory at Ochtertyre, describes how the poet ‘was charmed with the conversation of that last of the Scottish line of Latinists, which began with Buchanan and ended with Gregory.’

In 1787, he published his essay on the Theory of Moods and Verbs, and in 1792, Philosophical and Literary Essays. He was a great student of words, loved epigram, and spent much of his leisure in translating poetry. He was also interested in metaphysics, but as his great maxim was that in metaphysics there could be no discovery, his writings on this subject do not appear to have added much to his fame. Throughout these years, too, he kept up a constant correspondence with his cousin Thomas Reid, and proved himself just the appreciative critic that Reid required in the writing of his books. Dugald Stewart and Gregory together revised the proofs of Reid’s Essays on the Intellectual Powers, and to them this book was dedicated.

‘I send you,’ writes Reid, ‘what I propose as the title of my Essays, with an epistle which I hope you and Mr Stewart will allow me to prefix to them. Whether your name should go first on account of your doctor’s degree, or Mr Stewart’s, I leave you to adjust between yourselves. I know not how to express my obligations to you both for the aid you have given me.’

Towards the end of 1790 it became apparent that Cullen, the greatest doctor of his time was failing in strength, and on his resigning the Chair of the Practice of Physic the Town Council reappointed him in kindly recognition of his great services to the university, but appointed James Gregory to be joint-professor during his lifetime with the sole right of survivorship. This comradeship did not last long, for in the same year Cullen died. To no less strong man could the task of succeeding this veteran teacher, who had raised the reputation of the Edinburgh School to such a height, have been wisely entrusted.

As Professor of the Theory of Physic, Gregory had shown remarkable gifts, but in his new subject his teaching was superb. Sir Robert Christison in his autobiography, says of him, ‘Equal in fluency as in choice of language, he surpassed all lecturers I have ever heard. His doctrines were set forth with great clearness and simplicity in the form of a commentary on Cullen’s First Lines of the Practice of Physic. His measures for the cure of disease were sharp and incisive. In acute diseases there was no ‘médecine expectante’ for Gregory, he somehow left us with the impression that we were to be masters over nature in all such diseases, that they must of necessity give way before the physician who is early enough and bold enough in encountering them.’ He had a memory so clear that he was never known to forget a case, and in his lectures he made his students see not only the general features of a disease, but an actual case of it which had come under his care. He used stories and history, and his own experience to vivify his lectures, and no doubt he succeeded for he had seen many sides of life. He never had time for more than two-thirds of his subject in one course, but whatever he missed out he always discussed fevers and inflammations. In much that he taught he was in advance of his age. In observing how frequently rheumatic fever tends to heart disease; in limiting the use of blood-letting[^[8]] at a time when it was becoming almost a universal panacea with doctors, in urging a liberal dietary in certain stages of consumption, and in the invention and use of his mixture he showed that his views were in advance of those held by most of his brother physicians. Professor Gregory had an odd habit of wearing his cocked hat while he lectured.

[8]. In whole classes of cases, however, Gregory was a decided advocate of blood-letting.

It was in the summer of 1796 that dear old Thomas Reid, who was becoming very frail, was induced to pay a visit to St Andrew’s Square, to which Gregory had migrated. His daughter, Mrs Carmichael, was anxious to have the opinion of Dr Gregory, as to whether there was anything she could do to retard the bodily decay which increased daily in her father. It was a happy time to them all. Gregory delighted in the keenness of the old man’s mind. As he was not fit for much exercise, he passed his time in solving algebraical problems, and discussing abstruse subjects with Dugald Stewart. Gregory was no doubt busy. His practice increased daily, and besides this, he probably spent a good deal of his time in the house of Mr M’Leod of Geanies, the Sheriff of Ross-shire; to whose daughter, Isabella, he was married on the 19th of October, just ten days after Thomas Reid’s death.

Miss M’Leod was a very beautiful girl, both winning and attractive, if Raeburn’s portrait of her is true to life, and she made both a good wife and good mother. Among Raeburn’s other portraits, and interesting to us because they were the friends of the Gregories, are such men as Dugald Stewart, Principal Robertson, Blair, Home, Ferguson, Mackenzie, Francis Horner, and Jeffrey. How much is it Raeburn, one wonders, who makes these men and women so charming, for it is their looks and what we know of their lives, far more than their writings, that attract us. Principal Robertson, with all his sweetness and dignity, has only written histories which are now superseded. Jeffrey railed at Wordsworth. Blair’s sermons are but a lingering tradition. The eloquence of Dugald Stewart, which brought Melbourne, Lord John Russell, and Palmerston to Edinburgh University, is now forgotten. It is not by their books that we know these men, it is because we love them when we see their portraits; it is because Cockburn lets us know them in their homes—it is because John Brown, who lived early enough to be in touch with those who remembered them, has written about them lovingly and tenderly. They were delightful men, but more delightful in their lives than in their books. The witty criticisms of the Edinburgh Review have passed away; they were for their day—but the remembrance of Jeffrey’s pleasant after-intercourse with Wordsworth, the kindliness with which Gregory welcomed all the young Edinburgh reviewers into his house at a time when no other Tories except the ‘man of feeling’ and Archibald Alison would receive them, and the occasional permission which Principal Robertson gave little Henry Cockburn to feast off his cherry tree—these are memories which will appeal to the kindly hearts of all time.

Then it is amusing to read Dr Gregory’s critical letter to Burns, who must have required all his admiration for the great doctor to bear patiently the numerous suggestions which he showered upon him.