It was a brilliant time in Edinburgh University. The medical professoriate contained a number of remarkable men. Cullen was there who had revolutionised medicine, Alexander Monro ‘Secundus,’ the greatest of a great family, Black who was acknowledged by Lavoisier as the pioneer of modern chemistry, John Hope the botanist and John Gregory. Under such teachers as these James made rapid progress, and although there are no tales of medals or prizes we cannot forget the instance of his medical foresight when he predicted an attack of gout for his father, which attack came, to his sorrow, so soon and so fatally after the prediction. The Chair of the Practice of Physic was given to Cullen, and young Gregory went to St George’s Hospital, London, to gain a wider experience. He took his M.D. degree in Edinburgh in 1774: his thesis entitled _De morbis Coeli Mutatione Medendis_ treats in detail Phthisis Pulmonalis, Hypochondriasis, and Gout, and concludes by noticing the advantage of change of air in the prolonging of human life. Startlingly wide in subject as this thesis appears to us, it was greatly admired for its style and minuteness, and thus Gregory, quitting Edinburgh for a time of study on the continent, left behind him a very favourable impression both of his talent and hard-working research. Leyden, Paris, and Italy formed matter for enchanting letters which were the delight of his friends. Where are those letters gone to? How pleasant would it be to live through them a student’s life in these years. Whatever James Gregory could be, he was never dull, and besides in them we might have found the early tokens of that fierce temper which is the only pity of his professional career in Edinburgh. There are two portraits of Gregory, or rather a portrait[7] and a bust, which were said to be very like. A tall man, large, ungainly, of a rare presence. A man having authority impressed on every feature, radiant with affection for his friends, intolerant of enemies, asking his own way and getting his own way, loving, hating, thinking, speaking, feeling, always with intensest ardour. Here was a man whom none of his associates could regard dispassionately; they either loved him as a friend or hated him as an enemy. Footnote 7: The portrait is by Raeburn, and there is also a miniature of the professor by the same artist, which is in the possession of Mr Philip Spencer Gregory. Even in Edinburgh which was full of personalities, real individuals, men who were above all things themselves, Gregory stands out a great original. Lord Cockburn and Sir Robert Christison were not inclined to agree with each other on most subjects, yet about Gregory’s power there is a refreshing unanimity in their opinions.