The expedition, which had remained so bright to the end, unhappily had a tragic close. On the eve of departure William Meredith caught the small-pox at Alexandria, and died after a few days' illness. His marriage with Sarah Disraeli was to have taken place immediately after their arrival in England. The loss to her was too deep for reparation; she remained single to her own life's close. To Disraeli himself the shock gave 'inexpressible sorrow,' and 'cast a gloom over him for many years.' CHAPTER IV 'Contarini Fleming'--The Poetical Life--Paternal advice--A Poet, or not a Poet?--'Revolutionary Epic'--Unfavourable verdict--Success of the Novels--Disraeli a new Star--London Society--Political ambition--Mrs. Wyndham Lewis--Financial embarrassments--Portraits of Disraeli by N. P. Willis--Lady Dufferin and others--Stands for High Wycombe--Speech at the Red Lion--Tory Radicalism--Friendship with Lord Lyndhurst--Self-confidence--Vindication of the British Constitution--Conservative Reaction--Taunton Election--Crosses swords with O'Connell--The Runnymede Letters---Admitted into the Carlton Club--'Henrietta Temple' and 'Venetia.' [Sidenote: CHOICE OF A PROFESSION] The law had not been finally abandoned--perhaps in deference to Isaac Disraeli's continued anxiety on the subject. Schemes and projects, however, which had shaped themselves in Disraeli's own mind during his travels had to be executed first. He brought home with him a brain restored to energy, though with saddened spirits. There was the 'Revolutionary Epic' to be written, and an Eastern story which was brought out afterwards as the tale of 'Alroy.' Before undertaking either of them, however, he drew a second portrait of himself in 'Contarini Fleming.' Vivian Grey was a clever, independent youth, with the world before him, with no purpose save to make himself conspicuous. Disraeli now hoped to be a poet, and in 'Contarini' his aim, he said, was to trace the development and function of the poetic character. The flippancy of 'Vivian' is gone. The tone is calm, tender, and at times morbid. The hero is taken through a series of adventures. He tries politics, but politics do not interest him. He falls in love. The lady of his affections dies and leaves him in despair. Contarini revives to find a desire, and perhaps a capacity--for he cannot be confident that he is not deceiving himself--to become the poet which Disraeli was then aspiring to make himself. The outward characteristics of that character could at least be assumed. Contarini becomes a wanderer like Byron, and visits the same scenes from which Disraeli had just returned. The book contains passages of striking beauty, so striking that Goethe sent praises and compliments, and Milman, who reviewed it, said it was a work in no way inferior to 'Childe Harold,' and equally calculated to arrest public attention. Yet the story ends in nothing. The river loses itself in the sands.