T HE Lemon , in every respect so appropriate an emblem of 
zest, is a variety of the citron, and is consequently a 
blood relation of the more admired orange. It was first known 
to Europeans as the Median Apple, having been brought origi¬ 
nally from Media. Virgil terms it “the happy apple,” on 
account of its virtues; and in his second “ Georgic” thus sings 
its praises : 
“ Nor be the citron, Media’s boast, unsung, 
Though harsh the juice and lingering on the tongue: 
When the drugg’d bowl, ’mid witching curses brew’d, 
Wastes the pale youth by step-dame Hate pursued, 
Its powerful aid unbinds the mutter’d spell, 
And frees the victim from the draught of hell.” 
Who is there that is not acquainted with Gothe’s beautiful 
ballad, “ Know’st thou the Land where the Citrons bloom?” 
evidently referring to the lemon. Few poets have flung their 
wreaths upon this flower’s fragrant shrine : they have been 
seduced away by the more voluptuous beauty of her darker- 
hued sister; and yet in former days the fairer of the twain bore 
away the bell, if not for beauty, at least for virtue. Hearken, 
O gentle reader ! to a story which Athenaeus relates in proof 
of the good qualities of the neglected lemon ; a story told him * 
by a friend of his who was Governor of Egypt. This governor 
had condemned two malefactors to death by the bite of ser¬ 
pents. As they were led to execution, a person, taking com¬ 
passion on them, gave them a citron to eat. The consequence 
of this was, that though they were exposed to the bite of the 
most venomous serpents, they received no injury. The governor, 
being surprised at this extraordinary event, inquired of the 
soldiers who guarded them what they had eaten or drunk that 
day; and being informed that they had only eaten a citron, he 
