Amenhotep III. was not content with statues of twenty-five
or thirty feet in height, such as were in favour among
his ancestors. Those which he erected in advance
of his memorial chapel on the left bank of the Nile
in Western Thebes, one of which is the Vocal Memnon
of the classic writers, sit fifty feet high. Each
was carved from a single block of sandstone, and they
are as elaborately finished as though they were of
ordinary size. The avenues of sphinxes which
this Pharaoh marshalled before the temples of Luxor
and Karnak do not come to an end at fifty or a hundred
yards from the gateway, but are prolonged for great
distances. In one avenue, they have the human
head upon the lion’s body; in another, they
are fashioned in the semblance of kneeling rams.
Khuenaten, the revolutionary successor of Amenhotep
III., far from discouraging this movement, did what
he could to promote it. Never, perhaps, were
Egyptian sculptors more unrestricted than by him at
Tell el Amarna. Military reviews, chariot-driving,
popular festivals, state receptions, the distribution
of honours and rewards by the king in person, representations
of palaces, villas, and gardens, were among the subjects
which they were permitted to treat; and these subjects
differed in so many respects from traditional routine
that they could give free play to their fancy and
to their natural genius. The spirit and gusto
with which they took advantage of their opportunities
would scarcely be believed by one who had not seen
their works at Tell el Amarna. Some of their bas-reliefs
are designed in almost correct perspective; and in
all, the life and stir of large crowds are rendered
with irreproachable truth. The political and
religious reaction which followed this reign arrested
the evolution of art, and condemned sculptors and
painters to return to the observance of traditional
rules. Their personal influence and their teaching
continued, however, to make themselves felt under
Horemheb, under Seti I., and even under Rameses II.
If, during more than a century, Egyptian art remained
free, graceful, and refined, that improvement was due
to the school of Tell el Amarna. In no instance
perhaps did it produce work more perfect than the
bas-reliefs of the temple of Abydos, or those of the
tomb of Seti I. The head of the conqueror (fig. 197),
always studied con amore, is a marvel of reserved
and sensitive grace. Rameses II. charging the
enemy at Abu Simbel is as fine as the portraits of
Seti I., though in another style. The action
of the arm which brandishes the lance is somewhat angular,
but the expression of strength and triumph which animates
the whole person of the warrior king, and the despairing
resignation of the vanquished, compensate for this
one defect. The group of Horemheb and the god
Amen (fig. 198), in the Museum of Turin, is a little
dry in treatment. The faces of both god and king
lack expression, and their bodies are heavy and ill-balanced.
The fine colossi in red granite which Horemheb placed