‘Whatever he had in himself, he would fain have made out a hereditary claim for.’—Lockhart, Life of Scott, ch. lxxxiv.

When Pennant on his famous tour through Scotland, came to the dreary moorland below Craigroyston, he was filled with special interest by the scene. Here, he was told, was the cradle of the M’Gregors, a clan so devoid of kindness, that they had been hunted down like wild beasts, their name suppressed and their remnant dispersed like Jews over the country. ‘And even now,’ he added, ‘their posterity are still said to be distinguished among the clans in which they have incorporated themselves, not only by the redness of their hair, but by their still retaining the mischievous disposition of their ancestors.’ What then, would Pennant have said, could he have known that from one descendant of a MacGregor would arise a family, thirteen of whom would be mentioned in the EncyclopÆdias of 1900? After all it should be remembered that even Rob Roy’s literary tastes have never been sufficiently appreciated, for his name is found in the original list of the subscribers to Keith’s History of the Affairs of Church and State in Scotland, published in 1734!

The Gregories, then, were inclined to an academic life. Their portraits appear oddly and unexpectedly in the public buildings of this country, their names equally unexpectedly in many books; but their teaching which was the greatest gift they had to offer to their fellowmen can of course no longer be adequately appreciated. The very greatness of a teacher, which leads him to speak directly to the body of men before him with the needs, the ignorance, the prejudices, and the fancies of their age, makes his teaching unintelligible to any time but his own, to a preceding age, if it were possible, darkness, to a succeeding, platitude.

Going back to the beginning, how many times should we wish to thank one or other of the Gregories for their hard hitting at the shams and insincerities of their day! The Rev. John Gregorie, the founder of the family, began by withstanding Cant in the body, and overlooking the upturned sand-glass which that divine had set for him, taught his own views even though they were not accepted by his self-complacent opponent as the ‘orthodox doctrein.’ He after all, uninteresting as he perhaps appeared to be, is still the forerunner of the family greatness, and that not only as their first father, but because he showed an example of independence in opinion to his own children and to theirs—when the time should come that their grandfather’s history would be told them by the fire of a winter’s night.

One of his sons, David of Kinairdy, possessed the first barometer in Scotland, an innovation for which he nearly paid with his life. Another, Professor James Gregorie (the first), because he too rapidly realised the greatness of Newton’s philosophy, and taught it, came under the ban of his fellow-professors at St Andrews, and was glad when the opportunity presented itself to receive the approbation of a sister university, more ready for his teaching. He, too, invented the first reflecting telescope, through which things are seen as they appear to one’s eyes, and not upside down as had been the case with earlier telescopes. This also in its way was a parable of what the Gregories were to do in the world of science in making things as plain as possible, so that the wayfaring men though fools, might not err therein. David the son and David the grandson both did most of their work at Oxford, the first teaching mathematics, and endeavouring to bring Newton’s Principia down to the level of ordinary mathematicians, while the second, who was Professor of Modern History and Modern Languages, having been much abroad, arranged to have the assistance of foreign teachers, whom he supported, not only with his influence, but with his purse. There were other mathematicians descended from David of Kinairdy, who, it may be remembered, had three sons professors of mathematics at one time, and of this branch of the family also were Alexander Innes and Thomas Reid, both professors of philosophy.

Reverting to the descendants of Professor James Gregorie—the son, grandsons, great-grandson, and great-great-grandsons, were founders or builders, all of them of medical education in Scotland, each doing his own part for the cause of medicine. James the son, called the third professor of that name (for one of his mathematical cousins was the second), was recognised and honoured as ‘the founder’ of the Medical School at Aberdeen, though the foundations indeed must lie very deep, for by no amount of digging can traces of them be discovered. Professor John the grandson (his half-brother, Professor James the fourth, was inconsiderable), the fellow-worker with Cullen, accepted and taught that great doctor’s views, and with his charming good-sense eradicated many of the more prejudicial items of children’s upbringing. The great-grandson, Professor James (the fifth), more than took his father’s place as a teacher, and setting the medical world of Edinburgh at defiance, made one of the most sweeping reforms that has ever taken place in the history of clinical teaching in that university. He was also one of the great leaders in the volunteer movement. The great-great-grandsons, Professor William Gregory and Professor William Pulteney Alison, were professors both of them in the Medical Faculty of the Edinburgh University, and taught their subjects in the lucid and original way, which was the gift of the whole family. Duncan Farquharson Gregory was the only one of the descendants of James Gregorie, the great contemporary of Newton, who followed in his footsteps as a mathematician. He died in his thirtieth year, but left behind him a brilliant record of his life’s work, which is only sad because it was so short.

These Gregories, though they did not care for popularity, or possibly because they did not care for popularity, and never went out of their way to attain it, usually ended by being on the winning side—that is to say, public opinion often changed from being against them to being with them. They had such a gift of laughing at the right time, of passing over the bitterness of their adversaries, and even exposing the partisanship of their allies. Take the story which Sir Archibald Alison gives us in his autobiography, of how a mathematical examination was once rearranged for his benefit in the University of Edinburgh. It was in the time of Professor Leslie, in the spring of 1808, that this examination in the class of mathematics took place. Archibald Alison had three very able competitors. These were Borthwick of Crookston, J. M’Pherson Macleod, and Mr Edward Irving. Young Alison, nervous and excitable in face of the examination paper, became suddenly destitute of ideas, and could only solve two of the six problems which were set. It was all the more distressing, because he knew that, being by his mother a member of the great mathematical family of Gregories, he was expected to come out first. The wretched day came to an end at last, and the boy went home in the evening literally shedding tears of vexation. Immediately he was freed from the anxiety of the lecture-room, he solved the problems rapidly and clearly, in a way that annoyed and pleased him almost equally. The professor, it seems, when he read the papers, could not give the first prize to Alison on the strength of his answers. He therefore decided that the work of that day should not hold, and appointed a second date for the trial. The next time the result was all that he and Archibald Alison could have desired! This little episode entertained Sir Archibald immensely, and is a curious indication of the lengths to which their friends were prepared to go for them, but while in many families, influence, however acceptable it may be to themselves, is anything but a good to the community, the influence exerted for the Gregories was always rewarded by the sensible, thorough, and often brilliant way in which they carried on their work.

The members of the family, who took up the study of medicine were great healers, but how large was their idea of what that word meant! To cure the body or to fail in curing it was one thing, but to get at the reasons of illness in the circumstances and troubles of the patient, to take away the effect through taking away the cause, was ever the Gregories’ way. They understood many an unspoken heart history, and from their own strong natures gave both strength and comfort to the sick. It is no wonder then to see Burns clinging to the friendship of his great physician for support and for love, knowing it was to be found in ‘that man of iron justice, who was made without compassion for a poor poetic sinner.’ Nor it must in truth be added, was Dr Gregory any less severe with unpoetic sinners. For there is a case recorded when a great aldermanic magnate came to consult him from the west country, expecting his case to be considered as one of grave importance and significance. What was then his surprise, when he was shortly but critically surveyed by the doctor, and shown out of the consulting room with directions equivalent to this: ‘Have nothing richer than roast mutton and rice pudding for dinner for the next three months, and then if you care to let me have the pleasure of seeing you again, you will be a different man’—a transformation which the doctor evidently thought very desirable!

One can see that life could never be smooth to such a man. But at least the Gregories in all the struggles of life, in the riots of tongues, were ever sure of love and quiet by their own fireside. That came to them because they were such great lovers, just as the difficulties outside came from the same strong natures seeking their own way too much. It has to be remembered in connection with this that they were usually right, but that does not make the contest any less bitter. If one could only think of them as having had peaceful lives, as Thomas Reid at least had, but it was always a struggle, if not a battle with them till the pale conqueror came to still the hubbub for ever.

They were great men, no mere dreamers. They were workers with busy minds, to whom life was ever too short for the fulfilment of their plans, but death never came to them before they had earned their rest.

All the great universities of this country who received the teaching of the Gregories, have felt themselves honoured by their service, and have adorned their annals with their name.