The history of Orchids long established is uncertain, but I believe that the very first Cattleya which appeared in Europe was C. violacea Loddigesi, imported by the great firm whose name it bears, to which we owe such a heavy debt.  Two years later came C. labiata, of which more must be said; then C.  Mossiae, from Caraccas; fourth, C.  Trianae named after Colonel Trian, of Tolima, in the United States of Colombia.  Trian well deserved immortality, for he was a native of that secluded land—­and a botanist!  It is a natural supposition that his orchid must be the commonest of weeds in its home; seeing how all Europe is stocked with it, and America also, rash people might say there are millions in cultivation.  But it seems likely that C.  Trianae was never very frequent, and at the present time assuredly it is so scarce that collectors are not sent after it.  Probably the colonel, like many other savants, was an excellent man of business, and he established “a corner” when he saw the chance. C.  Mossiae stands in the same situation—­or indeed worse; it can scarcely be found now.  These instances convey a serious warning.  In seventy years we have destroyed the native stock of two orchids, both so very free in propagating that they have an exceptional advantage in the struggle for existence.  How long can rare species survive, when the demand strengthens and widens year by year, while the means of communication and transport become easier over all the world?  Other instances will be mentioned in their place.

Island species are doomed, unless, like Loelia elegans, they have inaccessible crags on which to find refuge.  It is only a question of time; but we may hope that Governments will interfere before it is too late.  Already Mr. Burbidge has suggested that “some one” who takes an interest in orchids should establish a farm, a plantation, here and there about the world, where such plants grow naturally, and devote himself to careful hybridization on the spot.  “One might make as much,” he writes, “by breeding orchids as by breeding cattle, and of the two, in the long run, I should prefer the orchid farm.”  This scheme will be carried out one day, not so much for the purpose of hybridization as for plain “market-gardening;” and the sooner the better.

The prospect is still more dark for those who believe—­as many do—­that no epiphytal orchid under any circumstances can be induced to establish itself permanently in our greenhouses as it does at home.  Doubtless, they say, it is possible to grow them and to flower them, by assiduous care, upon a scale which is seldom approached under the rough treatment of Nature.  But they are dying from year to year, in spite of appearances.  That it is so in a few cases can hardly be denied; but, seeing how many plants which have not changed hands since their establishment, twenty or thirty or forty years ago, have grown continually bigger and finer, it seems much more probable that