I sometimes think the day will come when all the modern nations will adore a sort of American god, a god who will have been a man that lived on earth and about whom much will have been written in the popular press; and images of this god will be set up in the churches, not as the imaginations of each painter may fancy him, not floating on a Veronica Kerchief, but established, fixed once and for all by photography. Yes, I foresee a photographed god, wearing spectacles.

On that day civilization will have reached its peak and thre will be steam-propelled gondolas in Venice.
November, 1861: The Gongcourt Journals