HE CROSSED THE FRONTIER AT BASLE and there, on the gable of an old house, he read the sentences: 'The quill is mightier than the sword — so it is carried high in the hat. The sword is less important — so it is carried down at the side." — By evening he was in Zurich.
For the first time he walked down the broad street from the station to the lake and saw, in the fading light, the flaming mountain tops. Long into the night he listened to the roar of the green river as it rushed past his window, under bridges and between houses.
A week passed by, for this time it was not so easy to find what he was looking for. At last he found a new lodging, a room in a house halfway up the Zurichberg, only to be reached after a steep climb, with a wide unimpeded view of lake and mountains. He enjoyed the peace up here and realized how much he had needed it.
PEACE WAS WHAT HE NOW WANTED ABOVE ALL. He was no longer the youth storming into Life — hungry like a wolf for life and for knowledge of it. He had looked into the minds of people and had seen into the heart of affairs. He wished to continue with this, but now from the standpoint of his newly acquired knowledge.