WARM ORCHIDS. 121 
I have seen a plant in Mr. Eastey’s collection with 
twenty-three spikes, the flowers all open at once. 
Such a spectacle is not to be described in prose. 
But when the enthusiast has rashly said that 
earth contains no more ethereal loveliness, let him 
behold Z. a. alba, the white variety. The dullest 
man I ever knew, who had a commonplace for all 
occasions, found no word in presence of that marvel. 
Even the half-castes of Mexico who have no soul, 
apparently, for things above horseflesh and cock- 
fights, and love-making, reverence this saintly 
bloom. The Indians adoreit. Like their brethren 
to the south, who have tenderly removed every 
plant of Cattleya Skinneri alba for generations un- 
known, to set upon their churches, they collect this 
supreme effort of Nature and replant it round their 
huts. So thoroughly has the work been done in 
either case that no single specimen was ever seen 
in the forest. Every one has been bought from 
the Indians, and the supply is exhausted ; that is 
to say, a good many more are known to exist, but 
very rarely now can the owner be persuaded to 
part with one. The first example reached Eng- 
land nearly half a century ago, sent probably by a 
native trader to his correspondent in this country ; 
but, as was usual at that time, the circumstances 
are doubtful. It found its way, somehow, to Mr. 
