The principal interest of Sismondi’s book does not lie in his attempt to give a scientific explanation of the facts that occupied his attention. Indeed, these attempts have little that is altogether satisfactory, for the analysis is frequently superficial, and even commonplace. His merit rather lies in having placed in strong relief certain facts that were consistently neglected by the dominant school of economists. Taken as a whole, his doctrine must be regarded as pessimistic. He deliberately shows us the reverse of the medal, of which others, even those whom we have classed as Pessimists—Ricardo and Malthus—wished only to see the brighter side. It is no longer possible to speak of the spontaneous harmony of interests, or to forget the misery and suffering which lies beneath an appearance of economic progress. Crises cannot be slipped over and treated as transient phenomena of no great moment. No longer is it possible to forget the important effects of an unequal division of property and revenues, which frequently results in putting the contracting parties in a position of fundamental inequality that annuls freedom of bargaining. In a word, it is no longer possible to forget the social consequences of economic transformations. And herein lies the sphere of social politics, of which we are now going to speak. The new point of view occupied by Sismondi enables him to see that the free play of private interests often involves injury to the general interest, and that the _laissez-faire_ doctrine preached by the school of Adam Smith has no longer any _raison d’être_. On the contrary, there is room for the intervention of society, which should set a limit to individual action and correct its abuses. Sismondi thus becomes the first of the interventionists. State action, in the first place, ought to be employed in curbing production and in putting a drag upon the too rapid multiplication of inventions. Sismondi dreams of progress accomplished by easy stages, injuring no one, limiting no income, and not even lowering the rate of interest.[419] His sensitiveness made him timid, and critics smile at his philanthropy. Even the Saint-Simonians, too sympathetic to certain of his views, reproach him with having allowed himself to be misled by it.[420] This state of mind was reflected by his habits in private life. Sainte-Beuve[421] relates of him how he used to employ an old locksmith who had become so useless and awkward that everybody had left him. Sismondi remained faithful to the old man even to the very end, despite his inefficiency, lest he should lose his last customer. He wished society to treat the older industries in a similar fashion. He has been compared to Gandalin, the sorcerer’s apprentice in the fable, who, having unlocked the water-gate with the magic of his words, sees wave succeed wave, and the house inundated, without ever being able to find the word which could arrest its flow.