But diligent and industrious as the new man may be, he is mortal after
all, and being mortal, is not proof against temptation--at least, after
five or six weeks of his pupilage have passed. The good St. Anthony
resisted all the endeavours of the Evil One to lure him from the proper
path, until the gentleman of the discoloured _cutis vera_ assumed the
shape of a woman. The new man firmly withstands all inducements to
irregularity until his first temptation appears in the form of the
Cyder-cellars--the convivial Rubicon which it is absolutely necessary for
him to pass before he can enrol himself as a member of the quiet,
hard-working, modest fraternity of the Medical Student of our London
Hospitals.

_Facilis descensus Averni._--The steps that lead from Maiden-lane to the
Cyder-cellars are easy of descent, although the return is sometimes
attended with slight difficulty. Not that we wish to compare our favourite
_souterrain_ in question to the "Avernus" of the Latin poet; oh, no! If
Æneas had met with roast potatoes and stout during his celebrated voyage
across the Styx to the infernal regions, and listened to songs and glees
in place of the multitude of condemned souls, "horrendum stridens," we
wager that he would have been in no very great hurry to return. But we
have arrived at an important point in our physiology--the first launch of
the new man into the ocean of his London life, and we pause upon its
shore. He has but definite ideas of three public establishments at all
intimately connected with his professional career--the Hall, the College,
and the Cyder-cellars. There are but three individuals to whom he looks
with feelings of deference--Mr. Sayer of Blackfriars, Mr. Belfour of
Lincoln's-inn-fields, and Mr. Rhodes of Maiden-lane. These are the
impersonation of the Fates--the arbitrators of his destinies.