While this is virtually all that has been recorded of this incident in Audubon's career, a number of interesting facts might be added which throw light upon the surroundings of his life at Paris while under the tuition of this master. At that time David was enjoying the privilege, accorded to eminent artists from an early day, of living with his family and of having his studios in special quarters set apart for the purpose in the palace of the Louvre; this was continued until all the artist tenants were turned out by one of Napoleon's peremptory orders in 1806. David's principal studio was at the corner of the Quai de Louvre and the square, facing the church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, at a point occupied in the present structure by the grand staircase leading to the Egyptian Gallery. It was here that his more advanced pupils studied; the appearance of its interior, with his pupils at work, as well as the view from one of its windows, by means of which its exact position can be determined, may be seen today in the interesting painting by Matthew Cochereau. This small picture, first exhibited in the salon of 1814, now hangs in the Louvre in company with some of the finest of David's works, and immediately beneath his huge canvas representing the coronation of Napoleon. Over his principal room David had also a private studio, and at one time he had another on the Quai, opposite the Institute of France, while his numerous pupils occupied a series of rooms, one above another, not remote from the first. Access to these apartments was gained from the street by means of a spiral stairway, the opening of which may still be seen in the Egyptian Hall. It is common to speak of this gifted man as if he alone had stifled all the art of the eighteenth century in France, as if he were the molder of his age and not a part of it. Too often has he been judged on the basis of a few, unfortunately conspicuous, theatrical pieces, while his excellent portraits, of which there are many, entitle him to the gratitude of posterity. Buchanan remarked that the mannerism of David could "still be traced in certain pedantries discernible in Audubon's style of drawing," which is a fancy without any basis in fact. If it could be shown that drawing from the casts of antique statues could develop mannerisms in the careful delineation of birds and mammals, it would still appear that Audubon's style was really formed at a later period. This brief Paris episode, which at most could have lasted but a few months, represented all the formal instruction which Audubon ever received in drawing, although he enjoyed some private tuition at a much later day. As to the sciences now embraced in biology, that is, zoölogy and botany, which would have been most useful to him, the score was blank; even books on any of these subjects were rare in America at the beginning of the nineteenth century.