Garcia, a member of that family of Spanish musicians whose combined brilliancy has probably never been equalled in the annals of the musical world. The father and founder of the family, renowned as one of the finest tenors of his day; as a prolific composer, and as a singing teacher of distinguished ability, as well as conductor and impressario; in fact, a fine vocalist and an equally fine musician, which in those days was something of a _rara avis_. The eldest daughter, Maria Malibran, a contralto whose brief career was one series of triumphs, while her gifts as a composer were shared by her sister, Pauline Viardot-Garcia, whose singing drew forth the praise and admiration of all, and whose retirement from the stage and concert platform brought with it fresh honours in the field of teaching, wherein she showed herself a worthy exponent of the high ideals of the Garcias. And what of Manuel himself? The subject of our Memoir has a triple claim that his name should be inscribed on the roll of fame. As professor of singing, he is acknowledged to have been the greatest of his time. In the musical firmament he has been the centre of a solar system of his own,--a sun round which revolved a group of planets, whose names are familiar to all: Jenny Lind, Maria Malibran, Mathilde Marchesi, Henriette Nissen, Charles Santley, Antoinette Sterling, Julius Stockhausen, Pauline Viardot, and Johanna Wagner--these are but a few of them. Many, too, out of the number have themselves thrown off fresh satellites, such as Calvè, Eames, Henschel, Melba, Scheidemantel, van Rooy. One and all have owed a debt of eternal gratitude to Manuel Garcia and his system. Again, as a scientific investigator he has given us the Laryngoscope, which Huxley placed among the most important inventions of the medical world. Indeed, it is no figure of speech, but a statement of demonstrable fact, that millions have been benefited by his work. Thirdly, as a centenarian, he is without question the most remarkable of modern times. Of the men who have attained to that rare age, those who possess any claim upon our interests beyond their mere weight of years are but a comparative handful. Of musicians one alone has approached him in longevity, Giacomo Bassevi Cervetto, who died on January 14, 1783, within a few days of his 101st birthday, but with little distinction beyond this fact. As to the rest who go to make up the tale of the world's centenarians of recent years, it has been generally a case of the survival of the unfittest-- "In second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."