"In Holland, selfishness is the ruling passion; in England, vanity is united with it. Portrait-painting therefore ever has, and ever will succeed better in this country than in any other.[36] The demand will be as constant as new faces arise; and with this we must be contented, for it will be vain to attempt to force what can never be accomplished, or at least can never be accomplished by such institutions as Royal Academies on the system now in agitation. Upon the whole, it must be acknowledged that the artists and the age are fitted for each other. If hereafter the times alter, the arts, like water, will find their level. "Among other causes that militate against either painting or sculpture succeeding in this nation, we must place our religion; which, inculcating unadorned simplicity, does not require--nay, absolutely forbids--images for worship, or pictures to excite enthusiasm. Paintings are considered as pieces of furniture, and Europe is already overstocked with the works of other ages. These, with copies countless as the sands on the sea-shore, are bartered to and fro, and quite sufficient for the demands of the curious, who naturally prefer scarce, expensive, and far-fetched productions to those which they might have on low terms at home. Who can be expected to give forty guineas for a modern landscape, though in ever so superior a style, when he can purchase one which, for little more than double the sum, shall be sanctioned by a sounding name, and warranted original by a solemn-faced connoisseur? This considered, can it excite wonder that the arts have not taken such deep root in this soil as in places where the people cultivate them from a kind of religious necessity, and where proficients have so much more profit in the pursuit? Whether it is to our honour or disgrace, I will not presume to say, but the fact is indisputable, that the public encourage trade and mechanics rather than painting and sculpture. Is it then reasonable to think that the artist, who, to attain essential excellence in his profession, should have the talents of a Shakspeare, a Milton, or a Swift, will follow this tedious and laborious study merely for fame, when his next-door neighbour, perhaps a porter-brewer or an haberdasher of smallwares, can without any genius accumulate an enormous fortune in a few years, become a lord mayor or a member of Parliament, and purchase a title for his heir? Surely no; for as very few painters get even moderately rich, it is not reasonable to expect that they should waste their lives in cultivating the higher branch of the art until their country becomes more alive to its importance, and better disposed to reward their labours.