The unfinished figures on the tomb of Seti I. shows with what a steady hand the clever draughtsman could sketch out his subjects.  The head from the nape of the neck round to the throat is described by a single line, and the contour of the shoulders is marked by another.  The form of the body is traced by two undulating lines, while the arms and legs are respectively outlined by two others.  The articles of apparel and ornaments, sketched rapidly at first, had to be gone over again by the sculptor, who worked out the smallest details.  One might almost count the tresses of the hair, while the folds of the dress and the enamels of the girdle and bracelets are minutely chiselled.

[Illustration:  BAS-RELIEF OF SETI I., SHOWING CORRECTIONS MADE BY THE SCULPTOR]

     Drawn by Faucher-Gudin, from photographs by Insinger and
     Daniel Heron.

When the draughtsman had finished his picture from the sketch which he had made, or when he had enlarged it from a smaller drawing, the master of the studio would go over it again, marking here and there in red the defective points, to which the sculptor gave his attention when working the subject out on the wall.  If he happened to make a mistake in executing it, he corrected it as well as he was able by filling up with stucco or hard cement the portions to be remodelled, and by starting to work again upon the fresh surface.  This cement has fallen out in some cases, and reveals to our eyes to-day the marks of the underlying chiselling.  There are, for example, two profiles of Seti I. on one of the bas-reliefs of the hypostyle hall at Karnak, one faintly outlined, and the other standing fully out from the surface of the stone.  The sense of the picturesque was making itself felt, and artists were no longer to be excused for neglecting architectural details, the configuration of the country, the drawing of rare plants, and, in fact, all those accessories which had been previously omitted altogether or merely indicated.  The necessity of covering such vast surfaces as the pylons offered had accustomed them to arrange the various scenes of one and the same action in a more natural and intimate connexion than their predecessors could possibly have done.  In these scenes the Pharaoh naturally played the chief part, but in place of choosing for treatment merely one or other important action of the monarch calculated to exhibit his courage, the artist endeavoured to portray all the successive incidents in his campaigns, in the same manner as the early Italian painters were accustomed to depict, one after the other, and on the same canvas, all the events of the same legend.  The details of these gigantic compositions may sometimes appear childish to us, and we may frequently be at a loss in determining the relations of the parts, yet the whole is full of movement, and, although mutilated, gives us even yet the impression which would have been made upon us by the turmoil of a battle in those distant days.