her quiet, comfortable, existence.

Ivan Fedotitch, the landlord of the tavern and of these quarters, left
his establishment and came with us. He jested in a friendly manner with
many of the landlords of apartments, addressing them all by their
Christian names and patronymics, and he gave us brief sketches of them.
All were ordinary people, like everybody else,--Martin Semyonovitches,
Piotr Piotrovitches, Marya Ivanovnas,--people who did not consider
themselves unhappy, but who regarded themselves, and who actually were,
just like the rest of mankind.

We had been prepared to witness nothing except what was terrible. And,
all of a sudden, there was presented to us, not only nothing that was
terrible, but what was good,--things which involuntarily compelled our
respect. And there were so many of these good people, that the tattered,
corrupt, idle people whom we came across now and then among them, did not
destroy the principal impression.

This was not so much of a surprise to the students as to me. They simply
went to fulfil a useful task, as they thought, in the interests of
science, and, at the same time, they made their own chance observations;
but I was a benefactor, I went for the purpose of aiding the unfortunate,
the corrupt, vicious people, whom I supposed that I should meet with in
this house. And, behold, instead of unfortunate, corrupt, and vicious
people, I saw that the majority were laborious, industrious, peaceable,
satisfied, contented, cheerful, polite, and very good folk indeed.

I felt particularly conscious of this when, in these quarters, I
encountered that same crying want which I had undertaken to alleviate.

When I encountered this want, I always found that it had already been
relieved, that the assistance which I had intended to render had already
been given. This assistance had been rendered before my advent, and
rendered by whom? By the very unfortunate, depraved creatures whom I had
undertaken to reclaim, and rendered in such a manner as I could not
compass.

In one basement lay a solitary old man, ill with the typhus fever. There
was no one with the old man. A widow and her little daughter, strangers
to him, but his neighbors round the corner, looked after him, gave him
tea and purchased medicine for him out of their own means. In another
lodging lay a woman in puerperal fever. A woman who lived by vice was
rocking the baby, and giving her her bottle; and for two days, she ha