led to its adoption.

I remembered it well, when I came to lead the orchestra of the
Philharmonic Society in London, 1855. Mendelssohn had conducted
the concerts during several seasons, and the tradition of his
readings was carefully preserved. It appears likely that the
habits and peculiarities of the Philharmonic Society suggested to
Mendelssohn his favourite style of performance (Vortragsweise)--
certainly it was admirably adapted to meet their wants. An
unusual amount of instrumental music is consumed at these
concerts; but, as a rule, each piece is rehearsed once only. Thus
in many instances, I could not avoid letting the orchestra follow
its traditions, and so I became acquainted with a style of
performance which called up a lively recollection of
Mendelssohn's remarks.

The music gushed forth like water from a fountain; there was no
arresting it, and every Allegro ended as an undeniable Presto. It
was troublesome and difficult to interfere; for when correct
tempi and proper modifications of these were taken the defects of
style which the flood had carried along or concealed became
painfully apparent. The orchestra generally played mezzoforte; no
real forte, no real piano was attained. Of course, in important
cases I took care to enforce the reading I thought the true one,
and to insist upon the right tempo. The excellent musicians did
not object to this; on the contrary, they showed themselves
sincerely glad of it; the public also approved, but the critics
were annoyed and continued so to browbeat the directors of the
society that the latter actually requested me to permit the
second movement of Mozart's Symphony in E flat to be played in