1ST MANUAL.—GREAT ORGAN.
ft. ft.
1 Montre1610 Nasard2
2 Montre811 Doublette2
3 Flûte à pavilion8 COMBINATION STOPS.
4 Bourdon812 Furniture et Cymbale3
5 Flûte harmonique813 Cornet8
6 Viole de Gambe814 Trompette8
7 Gemshorn815 Clarinette8
8 Rohrflûte416 Clairon4
9 Prestant4
2ND MANUAL.—CHOIR ORGAN.
ft. ft.
1 Montre89 Clochette1
2 Bourdon8 COMBINATION STOPS.
3 Keraulophone810 Plein jeu2
4 Flûte harmonique811 Clarinette16
5 Bourdon1612 Cromhorn8
6 Flûte harmonique413 Trompette8
7 Fugara414 Clairon4
8 Doublette2
3RD MANUAL.—SWELL ORGAN.
SOLO STOPS.
ft. ft.
1 Viole de Gambe89 Trompette harmonique.8
2 Voix céleste810 Clairon4
3 Bourdon8 JEUX DE FOND.
4 Piccolo111 Bourdon16
5 Basson-Hautbois812 Principal8
6 Voix humaine813 Flûte harmonique8
COMBINATION STOPS.14 Flûte octaviante4
7 Cornet815 Prestant4
8 Trombone1616 Flageolet2
4TH MANUAL.—SOLO ORGAN.
ft. COMBINATION STOPS.
1 Bourdon16 ft.
2 Gambe167 Cornet16
3 Gambe88 Bombarde16
4 Salicional89 Trompette8
5º Quintaton810 Cor anglais8
6º Dulciana411 Clairon4
PEDALS.
ft. ft.
1 Principal329 Flûte4
2 Flûte16 COMBINATION STOPS.
3 Sous-Basse1610 Bombarde32
4 Contrebasse1611 Bombarde16
5 Grosse Flûte812 Basson16
6 Quinte1213 Basson8
7º Violoncelle814 Trompette8
8º Bourdon815 Clairon4

COMBINATION STOPS FOR THE SWELL.
SOLOANCHESFONDS
TREMOLOTREMOLOTREMOLO
COMBINATION PEDALS.
1Tonnerre.
2Tirasse du 1er clavier sur le pédalier.
3Tirasse du 2me clavier sur le pédalier.
4Tirasse du 3me clavier sur le pédalier.
5Tirasse du 4me clavier sur le pédalier.
6Réunion du mécanisme des jeux du 1er clavier sur le levier pneumatique.
7Accouplement du 2me clavier sur le 1er.
8Accouplement du 3me clavier sur le 1er, à l'unisson.
9Accouplement du 4me clavier sur le 1er.
10Accouplement du 4me clavier sur le 3me.
11Accouplement du 3me clavier à l'octave grave sur le 1er clavier.
12Forte général.
13Introduction des jeux de combinaisons du pédalier.
14Introduction des jeux de combinaisons du 1er clavier.
15Introduction des jeux de combinaisons du 2me clavier.
16Introduction des jeux de combinaisons du 4me clavier.
17Expression sur le 3me clavier récit.

No one should omit visiting S. Eustache on S. Cecilia's day (November 22), when a grand mass is always performed, with full orchestra, in aid of the Society of Musicians; and indeed, any Sunday the music is quite well worth hearing, and the ceremonial is the finest in Paris. At the same time much has been lost by the substitution of the Roman for the Parisian rite, which took place in 1876. In the former, two acolytes swing the censers; in the latter, four or six acolytes standing in a row threw them up on high six times, the last time catching them while kneeling on one knee. As has been said, the grand effect of this use can never be forgotten by those who saw it.

The church owes the new marble pavement to its good curé l'abbé Simon, one of the heroes of the Commune, and, almost, one of its victims. So much has been related (and with justice) against the Communards, that an incident connected with S. Eustache ought not to be forgotten. The day the abbé Simon was arrested he had three thousand francs in his pocket, which were destined to pay for the pavement of the choir. Of course upon his arrival at the prison they were given up to the police, and were not restored when the curé was released through the intervention of his chères paroissiennes, les Dames de la Halle, who went en masse to demand his freedom. On Easter Monday, however, Raoul Rigault's secretary went to the sacristry, asked M. Simon if the money had been returned, and finding that it had not, he left the church, to return in an hour's time, with the three thousand francs intact.

In the south transept is a little Gothic statue of S. John, and on the wall is a sad memorial of the names of all the hostages who suffered death under the Commune, headed by the archbishop (Darboy) and the curé of the Madeleine, Duguerry, who was formerly curé of S. Eustache.

S. Eustache, like most large churches, looks grandest in the evening, when the altar is ablaze with lights, and long vistas fade away into the darkness; but under all conditions it is a splendid church, a mass of harmonious colouring from floor to ceiling. At the evening services during Lent, it is seen to advantage; or again on Christmas Day at vespers, when it is resplendent with lights; those curious and unchurchlike glass chandeliers filled with candles, and clusters of gas jets round the walls.

Another great day is Good Friday, when Rossini's "Stabat Mater" is performed. It is always beautifully rendered, but for three-fourths of the crowd which assembles—and the church is always crammed—for most of the people it is a mere performance. So is the midnight mass on Christmas Day. Religious enthusiasm carries one away upon one or two occasions; the sentiment is exquisite; the emotions which are aroused are of the purest, and we feel almost that we are by the veritable manger listening to the heavenly Host: "Glory to God in the Highest." But alas! human beings are but mortal; and so upon experience we find that the crowds who attend the mass do so mainly as a pastime before the réveillon; that is the function of the night; eating and drinking, junkettings and merrymakings; and just a little church-going to fill up the time until the hour of feasting commences. Cardinal Manning in his wisdom saw this many years ago, and stopped the practice of saying midnight mass, a measure he probably regretted as much as any of us; for apart from its being a very ancient custom, it is a most poetic idea, appealing strongly to our best emotions and our most vivid imagination.