technical practice, and that aulos virtuosi achieved great reputations and were highly esteemed. This leads us to the question of instrumental practice in general, the brief consideration of which is our next task. VI One of the most ancient musical controversies was that regarding the respective merits of wind and string instruments. How it resulted in a most important victory for the latter is revealed in the partly mythical story of Marsyas, a Phrygian satyr. According to this legend Marsyas found upon the banks of a stream a flute, probably the double flute, which Athena had thrown away because she feared that blowing upon it would injure her beauty. Being a satyr, and therefore not so sensitive upon the point of personal attractions as the goddess, Marsyas set himself to learn the use of the instrument, and, in course of time, grew so proficient that he challenged Apollo to a contest, the god to use the lyre, the satyr the pipe. Apollo played a simple melody, but Marsyas, following, executed a number of variations upon this tune which compelled the judge to admit that in the first test victory belonged to the satyr. Apollo then played again, accompanying himself with the voice, and this Marsyas could not surpass; he objected, however, on the ground that the voice and the lyre were two instruments, while he was using only one. Apollo retorted that Marsyas used both mouth and fingers for his pipe, hence he had the right to use his mouth as well. The judges agreed with Apollo and the second test was awarded to the god. But when the third test came Apollo scorned to use the voice, and burst out in such a strain of melody as even Mount Olympus had never heard before, the music of the immortals which no satyr could hope to compass. Marsyas was flayed alive by Apollo as a sufficient declaration of his defeat. Thus the myth. It has its reflection in fact. For the ancient national music of the lyre prevailed in Greece over the foreign Phrygian double flute and the latter was regarded as a barbarian instrument, finding its place only in vintage festivals, bacchanalian orgies, and, finally, into the chorus of the tragic drama.