Rebellion broke out, and after we had settled, for the sake of economy,
in Woodbury, New Jersey. From this time I saw very little of my deaf
aunt or of Peninnah. I was resolute to rise in the world, and not to be
weighted by relatives who were without my tastes and my manners.

I set out for Philadelphia, with many good counsels from my aunt and
guardian. I look back upon this period as a turning-point of my life.
I had seen enough of the world already to know that if you can succeed
without exciting suspicion, it is by far the pleasantest way; and I
really believe that if I had not been endowed with so fatal a liking
for all the good things of life I might have lived along as reputably as
most men. This, however, is, and always has been, my difficulty, and
I suppose that I am not responsible for the incidents to which it gave
rise. Most men have some ties in life, but I have said I had none which
held me. Peninnah cried a good deal when we parted, and this, I think,
as I was still young, had a very good effect in strengthening my
resolution to do nothing which could get me into trouble. The janitor
of the college to which I went directed me to a boarding-house, where
I engaged a small third-story room, which I afterwards shared with Mr.
Chaucer of Georgia. He pronounced it, as I remember, "Jawjah."

In this very remarkable abode I spent the next two winters, and finally
graduated, along with two hundred more, at the close of my two years of
study. I should previously have been one year in a physician's office as
a student, but this regulation was very easily evaded. As to my studies,
the less said the better. I attended the quizzes, as they call them,
pretty closely, and, being of a quick and retentive memory, was thus
enabled to dispense with some of the six or seven lectures a day which
duller men found it necessary to follow.