Cities that bear the dual character of seats of learning and marts of commerce are comparatively rare. Who would ever dream of finding a foundry on the Isis, or a factory on the Cam? These streams are sacred to learning. They are not polluted with the vapours that are evolved from industrial life. No sounds of the ponderous hammer, or screeching "buzzer," are to be heard within the range of their pellucid course. They are consecrated to more lofty, if not to more useful purposes. But with the Clyde the case is different. It is almost a puzzle to say whether Glasgow excels more as the seat of a famous University or as the centre of a hundred busy, important, and prosperous industries. Certainly, the decadence of the one has not followed the development of the other. Learning and commerce flourish hand in hand, without the slightest trace of incompatibility. No less an authority than Sir Robert Peel declared, on the occasion of his installation as Lord Rector of the University in 1837, "I do not consider it an exaggerated compliment when I say that I doubt whether, of all cities existing on the face of the earth, there be any one so remarkable for the combination of commercial and active industry, with services rendered to science and literature, as Glasgow." From the watch towers of Gilmorehill a hundred chimneys, some of them rivalling the Pyramids of Gizeh in height, may be seen; the din of a hundred hammers, employed in the service of the world's merchant marine, may be distinctly heard; innumerable masts, denoting our traffic with all parts of the globe, may be counted. And yet in these same halls the budding genius of Scotland's sons is being developed—the qualities that are henceforth to distinguish our statesmen, and orators, and poets, and merchant princes, are being matured. The alumni of Glasgow University have not all blushed unseen, albeit the fame of their Alma Mater has sometimes been over-shadowed by that of Edinburgh. To go no further back than the living members of the Senatus Academicus, it will be admitted that Caird in Divinity, Lushington in Greek, Sir William Thomson in Natural Philosophy, Allen Thomson in Anatomy, Rankine in Mechanics, Grant in Astronomy, and Gairdner in Medicine, are names to conjure with. For the Principal of a seat of learning, that combines with an extraordinary amount of present vitality and prestige the traditions of a glorious past, stretching backwards until it is almost lost sight of amid the mists of the Middle Ages, it is surely essential that he should be a man of piety, of excellent governing and administrative powers, and, above all, of extensive erudition. All these conditions have distinguished more or less the predecessors of Dr. Barclay, the present Principal, and in himself they are very happily combined, although he is "not so young as he used to be," and his energy and usefulness have necessarily been somewhat impaired by the lapse of years.

Principal Barclay is the son of the Rev. James Barclay, minister of Unst, Shetland, and was born in the year 1792. After having been educated at King's College, Aberdeen, which he entered in the year 1808, and where he distinguished himself by carrying off the highest bursary, young Barclay proceeded to London, pending his appointment to a ministerial charge in the Church of Scotland. A spirit of adventure and enterprise induced him to take this step. He could not brook the idea of spending any of his time in a state of comparative idleness. Through the influence of some friends, he succeeded shortly after his arrival in the metropolis in getting an appointment as Parliamentary reporter to the Times, and he continued in the gallery of the House of Commons in that capacity during the four years commencing with 1818. It is not too much to say that these four years embraced one of the most eventful and exciting periods of England's history. The Reform agitation was being carried on with a bitterness that almost eclipsed all subsequent attempts to establish the five points of the Charter as the law of the land. In these years, too, the memorable trial of Queen Caroline took place, and it is one of Principal Barclay's most interesting reminiscences that during his connection with the Times he had occasion to report not only a considerable amount of the evidence taken in the House of Lords during the Queen's trial, but also the memorable speech of Lord Brougham in defence of the unfortunate lady—a speech which has only been eclipsed in point of length by the recent address of the Attorney-General in the Tichborne trial, and by Burke's speech in connection with the trial of Warren Hastings. Among his collaborateurs on the Times, Principal Barclay can recall the names of Collier, so well known for his knowledge and criticism of Shakespeare's works; Barnes, who subsequently distinguished himself as the sub-editor and leader-writer of the leading journal; and Tyas, who afterwards introduced that special feature for which the Times has long been noted—the abridgement of the Parliamentary debates. The routine of a reporter's duties at that time was pretty much the same as it is at the present day, the main difference being that the work was, if anything, more difficult and arduous at a period when shorthand was in its infancy, and when the staff employed on the daily journals was much less numerous than it is in our own day. Another feature that tended to make more difficult the Parliamentary reporters' duties at that period, was the long "takes" which they had to supply—a "take" being the share of the work which each member of the reporting staff has individually alloted to his charge. At that time every reporter who entered the gallery was compelled to write out the proceedings of a whole hour, and he had to do this with so much celerity and amplitude that the report had to be as complete as the Parliamentary reports of the Times have ever been. It has since been found, however, that the labour of an hour is far too much for one man, if he is to do himself or the report anything like justice; and hence the "take" of reporters became very much shortened, until they now seldom exceed a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes. Another negative phase of Dr. Barclay's journalistic career which may be noticed, is the fact that he never fell foul of the Sergeant-at-Arms, into whose custody many an unlucky reporter, who was accused of having misstated the speeches of legislators, was given. Despite the fact that Collier was at that time the only shorthand writer on the staff of the Times, it was his misfortune to undergo this ordeal. He was summoned to the bar of the House, and, having fully vindicated his report, he was immediately discharged from custody. The fee of the Sergeant-at-Arms (eighty guineas) was paid by Mr. Walter. On another occasion a complaint was made in the House of a report by a Mr. Ross, one of the Times' staff. The occasion was a speech delivered by Canning, and the sentence which he was said to have misreported was to the effect that the subject had never been under the consideration of the Cabinet above five minutes. Ross, however, had the satisfaction of receiving a letter from Canning himself, in which the great statesman vindicated the accuracy of the report. Mr. Barclay was never a shorthand writer. He was accustomed to use abbreviated longhand, and he became so expert in the use of this system, that he could report without difficulty any average speaker. After leaving the Times, which he did at the close of the year 1821, Mr. Barclay received a call to Dunrossness, in Shetland, and he continued to minister in that parish until the year 1827, when he was translated to Lerwick, a parish in the same remote region. Subsequently, in 1843, he was removed to Petercoulter, in Aberdeenshire; and his fourth and last charge was Currie, in Mid Lothian, to which he was translated in 1844. It was while he was in the latter charge that the Principalship of the Glasgow University became vacant, owing to the death of the late Principal Macfarlan, and the office was conferred by the Government, with whom the patronage lay, upon Dr. Barclay. The appointment was a good deal discussed at the time, and it was said in some circles that it was scarcely judicious, the fact being that Mr. Barclay's claims and qualifications for such a high position were not fully known. But he had really earned the honour by his ability and scholarship. It is questionable whether any man in Scotland has a more extensive acquaintance with languages, both modern and ancient. He is particularly conversant with Icelandic literature, which very few people have studied, but which is specially worthy of study, both for its historical interest and its poetry. Indeed, from the Mediterranean to Iceland there is, perhaps, no language spoken that Principal Barclay does not understand. Besides this, however, he has devoted much attention to Biblical criticism, and he was long distinguished as one of the ablest and staunchest of the few advocates of reform and liberalism that during his ministerial career adorned the Church Courts. Hence, although they might be comparatively unknown, Dr. Barclay was not without due qualifications for the office. One of the leading journals, in referring to Principal Barclay's appointment, which was made in December, 1857, declared "that to stand up as he did against a mass of brethren in matters on which the esprit de corps is morbidly strong, requires not only the exercise of some of the higher moral and intellectual powers, but the sacrifice of some of the weaknesses especially incident to the clerical character, and those who in the Established Church Courts perform such a duty in the interests of justice, of progress, and of the public, have much need of the sympathy and encouragement that can be given from without. Hitherto, however, there has been a sort of impression that the support of liberal measures formed rather an obstacle than a recommendation to the good offices of even liberal dispensers of patronage, and there is matter for congratulation in so much being done towards the destruction of this impression by the fact of Dr. Barclay, being a Liberal in Church and State not having been allowed to act as a counterbalance to his other qualifications for the high office to which he is about to be raised." Principal Barclay enjoys in his present capacity an otium cum dignitate to which, after the labours of a long life, he is well entitled. Although verging on his eightieth year, he is still hale, hearty, and vigorous, and able to converse intelligently on the most abstruse and recondite subjects. Principal Barclay was married in 1820 to Mary, the daughter of the late Captain Adamson of Kirkhill. They have had a large family, but only two daughters and one son survive. Both the former are married, and the latter is following the medical profession in China.