In theology his reasoning led him into Unitarianism, then a very fearful thing; and in politics he dallied with Madame la Revolution.
A polite note from the Master of the College, suggesting that he talk less and follow the curriculum a little more closely, led him straight to the Master, with whom he proposed to argue the case, or publicly debate it. This was terrible!
Stephen Crane at Syracuse University, a hundred years later, did just such a thing. He sought to argue a point in the classroom with Chancellor Symms.
"Tut, tut!" said the Chancellor. "Have you forgotten what Saint Paul says on that very theme?"
"Yes, I know," replied the best catcher ever on the Syracuse Nine; "yes, I know what Saint Paul says, but I differ with Saint Paul." And Stevie, unconsciously, was standing on the well-lubricated chute that landed him, soon, well outside the campus.
The authorities did not admire the brilliant young Coleridge, full of his reasons and prolix abstractions. He was attracting too much attention to himself, and gradually gathering about him a throng of admirers who might disturb the balance of things. He was there anyway only through sufferance, and an intimation was given him that if he were not willing to accept things as they existed, and as they were taught, he had better go elsewhere.
Piqued by his treatment and feeling he had been misunderstood and wronged, he suddenly disappeared.
Some months afterwards, an acquaintance found him in a company of dragoons, duly enlisted in His Majesty's service, under an assumed name.
The authorities at Jesus College were notified, and knowing that such a youth was out of place serving as a soldier, and feeling further a small pang of regret possibly for having driven him away, a plan was set on foot to secure his discharge. This was soon brought about, and doubtless much to Coleridge's relief. Erelong he found himself back at Cambridge—a little subdued, and a trifle more discreet, for his rough contact with the workaday world.
A journey to Oxford, to visit an old friend, proved a pivotal point in his life. The fame of Coleridge as a poet had gone abroad, and the literary fledglings at Oxford sought to do the visitor honor in the proper way. Among others whom he met on this visit were Robert Southey and Robert Lovell, both poets of considerable local fame.