The feelgood factor was tangible. As the Scottish Parliament met in Glasgow for the first time, all the talk was of how natural it all felt. Kenny Gibson, Nationalist MSP of this parish, welcomed his colleagues to the ''Holy City'', and a succession of politicians competed to swear their undying loyalty to the dear green place. They all banged on about how they felt at home.

After Wendy Alexander became the umpteenth MSP to proclaim ''I am a Glaswegian'', there was widespread anticipation that someone would eventually go overboard and cry: ''Ich bin ein Glaswegian.''

Margaret Smith, a Liberal Democrat from the far east, said it was a bit like attending an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. She summoned the courage to confess: ''My name is Margaret and I'm from Edinburgh,'' and warm was the applause from the similarly afflicted.

May 17, 2000, was indeed a historic day. The closest the Scottish Parliament ever came to meeting in Glasgow - it says here - was in 1384 when the Royal Council was convened in Glasgow by King Robert II.

Described by a disrespectful keelie as a ''scaled down meeting of the great and the good,'' the Royal Council seems to have passed into history, a bit like the fabled Second City of the Empire. It was odd to hear a Scottish Nationalist like Mr Gibson banging on proudly about the British Empire, but also somehow appropriate.

A sudden passion for Glasgow was the theme of the day. Perhaps it was sympathy for the troubled old town, or nostalgia for the great days of the city grey and black, or a resentment that the Friendly City's reputation for violence is nothing but a libellous rumour put about by the 17 people stabbed last night.

But this was a day in which the Scottish Parliament showed Scotland's first city genuine and even heartwarming respect and affection. It was almost like a salving of conscience. Smouldering feelings of outrage at the way Glasgow was mistreated in the fight for the Parliament's temporary home were rekindled by the ease with which MSPs settled down for business in surroundings which were far from strange. It still beggars belief that Glasgow was encouraged to bid for the Parliament in a cynical manoeuvre designed to jerk Edinburgh from its complacency and its non-existent effort to win the temporary Parliament. But there was no future in nursing old resentments on this special day.

The history thing was inescapable. As MSPs confessed their approval of their temporary home, Your Correspondent felt somehow disqualified from the jollity. You see, the Parliament was meeting in the old High School of Glasgow, where almost half a century ago he was belted frequently for uselessness at mathematics.

On one occasion which lives on in the in the unhappy memory he was denounced by a scandalised teacher (who must have been pretty useless himself) for gaining the ''worst marks in algebra and geometry in 800 years of proud school history, boy''.

(Your Correspondent - by now well wandered down memory lane - also recalls the school's C block which is nowadays the Identification Bureau of Strathclyde Police. In the 1950s it was still suffering from a visit from the Germans. Some of it was a no-go area for pupils who felt fleetingly grateful to the Luftwaffe).

Despite his shameful niche in the matchless record of Scottish education Your Correspondent is numerate enough to know that 16 into two does not go, at least not easily. LibDems, all 16 of them, complained yesterday that their group had been given only two desks, while the Tories were required to share three telephones among 19 MSPs.

Also, the acoustics in the old school hall were atrocious, but everything else was great, far better than the duff facilities in Edinburgh which MSPs must thole until at least the end of 2002.

Serves them right, by the way.