Ordre XXIV is from the composer's last volume of harpsichord pieces (1730, three years before his death), and it shows how far his style had evolved away from the seventeenth-century dance suite. The old dance forms are still invoked, but pictorial titles and multi-sectioned forms dominate. The Ordre consists of a series of vignettes, contrasting A minor with A major, the noble with the cute, the twittering treble with the rich bass.

The opening pair of movements, the second itself a pair of binary forms, begins with a noble and grave Sarabande to paint a picture of the old lords with their distinguished haughtiness; but their gravity is perhaps illusory, as the piece exploits the treble range. The young lords, or fops, are athletic if given to chatter, their second part turning to the major mode. Les Dars-homicides (Fatal Darts) is to be played cheerfully, not for the sake of irony, but because these are Cupid's darts; the piece is cast in a refrain form with three contrasting strains, remaining in the major mode. The refrain idea is extended and made much more sophisticated in Les Guirlandes (Garlands), in which the thorny and throaty refrain comes back more unpredictably, and with an entire binary form in the minor mode encapsulated within the major sections. Brinborions (Baubles) is appropriately glittering; it again contrasts the major and minor modes, but this time in no fewer than four binary sections, the last evoking the harpsichord's primary bauble with a trill-like figure. La Divine-Babiche ou les amours badins (The Divine Little Dog or Playful Loves) presents a delicate balance between the voluptuous (Couperin's performance instruction) and the coy (Couperin cautions the performer not to linger)—playful perhaps, but in the minor mode. La Belle Javotte, autre fois L'Infante (The Pretty Gavotte, formerly The Infanta) is a little dance apparently originally composed for the Infanta of Spain, ill-fated fiancée of Louis XV and a pupil of Couperin's during that period. The closing, L'Amphibie, is one of Couperin's most monumental movements. The title is deceptive, as it certainly is not meant to evoke land and sea. Rather, it refers to changeability. It has the rhythm and spirit of a French passacaglia, but it does not have the repetition scheme of one (although the opening does return at the very end), and it is extremely varied in every sense. It is largely in major mode, but with a significant number of minor strains in the middle, and there are six different tempo or style indications during its thirteen different sections (not counting repetitions). Just as its design differs so greatly from the marvelous passacaglia in the Eighth Ordre, its function here is not the same: it is a climax, not to be rounded off by a succeeding trifle.