I started to study at the University of Basel

In the spring I started to study at the University of Basel. The only period in
my life when I was frankly bored (school years) ended, and in front of
me swung open the Golden gate of the universitas litterarum (University
scholarship. - lat.), in academic freedom. Finally I hear the truth about
the nature, learn all about man, about his anatomy and physiology, about some
exceptional biological conditions, i.e. diseases. Finally, I
I can join the "Zofingia" student brotherhood, which in due time
belonged to my father. When I was "callow" young man, it even took me
organized by the brotherhood tour of one famous for its wine makers
Margrave the village. There, on the feast the father gave funny speech in
which, to my delight, found the carefree spirit of his student
past. Then it became clear that the University end its life as
would be stopped and froze, and I remembered the student's song:

 Downcast eyes, they wander back
     To the land of the Philistines,
     Alas, everything changes!

 Her words left me with a heavy Deposit. When father was
young student, he also opened a world - countless treasures
knowledge. What happened? That broke him, and why he was sick? I
could not find the answer. Speech made by the father on that summer evening, was
his last remembrance of the time when he was what I wanted. Soon
his condition deteriorated. In the late autumn of 1895 he was chained to
bed, and in the beginning of 1896 - died.
 After classes I came home and asked how he. "Ah, as always. Very
bad," he said mother. Father whispered something to her and she, eyes hinting at
his feverish state, he said, "He wants to know if you passed
state exam?" I knew I had to lie: "Yes, everything's fine."
Father sighed with relief and closed his eyes. A little later, I walked up to him
again. He was alone, mother was doing something in the next room. Heavy and
hoarse breathing never gave up hope - began to die. I stood at his
bed, numb, I've never seen how people die.
Suddenly he stopped breathing. I waited and waited for the next breath, but it is not
was. Then I remembered mother and went into the next room, she was knitting there
window. "He died," I said. Mother came with me to the bed, father was
dead. "As quickly after all this happened," she spoke as if with
surprise.
 This was followed by the dark and painful days, and in my mind a little that
left of them. One day the mother said to his "second" voice that
whether to me, whether in space: "For you, he died just in time," which,
I thought that meant: "You didn't understand each other, and it could be
a bother to you". It must be matched her "number 2".
 But it's "for you" was horrible, suddenly I felt that some part of my
life is irrevocably rooted in the past. On the other hand, I grew up, I
became a man, became free. After my father's death I moved into his
the bathroom, while the family took his place. Now it was my responsibility every
week to give the mother money for the farm, herself she could not save, and
do not know how to count them.
 Six weeks later, the father I had. He appeared in front of me
all of a sudden and said that I came from vacation, well rested and now
returns home. I expected him to reproach, why took his room, but
the question went. And I felt ashamed that I believed him dead. Through
a few days the dream was repeated: my father recovered and returned home.
And again I blamed myself for that thought of him as dead. I asked myself
again and again: "What means this his permanent return? Why in the dream
he seems so real?" My feeling was so strong that I
for the first time in my life thinking about life after death.

 His father died there were many problems associated with the continued
my study. Some relatives of the mother believed that I should look for
the place the seller in one of trading houses and as quickly as possible to start
earn. Mother promised to help her younger brother, since the money for life
not enough, and uncle paternal offered to help me. At the end of the study
my debt to him was 3000 francs. The rest of the money I earned myself,
sitting as a Junior assistant, in addition I was engaged in the sale
a small collection of Antiques which he inherited from one of the aunts.
 I don't regret those days of poverty - they taught me the value of simple things.
I remember, one day I received a magnificent gift - a box of cigars. Them to me
enough for a whole year: I allowed myself only one on Sundays.
 Looking back, I can say only one thing: College years were
a great time. Everything was spiritualized, and it was alive. I
I became friends with. Sometimes I made presentations on psychology and theology
at meetings of the "Zofingia". Remember our heated debate, not only about medicine.
We talked about Schopenhauer and Kant, understood the style of Cicero, we
did, finally, philosophy and theology. In short speaking, we used
anyone that could give us a classical education and cultural tradition.
 The closest friend of mine became albert Oeri. Our friendship
stopped only with his death in 1950. Our relationship has been on
twenty years older than us, they began long before we met,
the late 60-ies of the last century, when he met and became friends our
fathers. But they were separated quite early while we stayed Oeri
together for a lifetime.