In all European countries and in other parts of the world inhabited by Europeans, Sunday, devoted to church services in the morning, is the day of rest and recreation. It is not so in England: here, this day is the most boring and monotonous. Englishmen are devout people, strict in observing the rules and ordinances of the Christian Church, and many benefits derive from this noble quality, both in the public life of the country and in the private lives of its citizens, but this puritanical, Old Testament observance of the commandment about the sanctity of Sundays, in my opinion, is taken to the extreme. On Sundays, all the shops, all the workshops in England, close down (so that it is not even possible to buy fresh bread), all public and private entertainments cease for the entire day; one cannot see people dancing; one cannot hear music playing. Don't think that it all happens because of some imposed regulation or under the supervision of the police! The public have become so used to this custom that they would not tolerate any violation, and they would break the windows of the first house from which they could hear the sounds of music on a Sunday. But excessive strictness inevitably entails the breaking of the rule. Decent people spend their Sundays reading, conversing, and going for rides. Long rows of carriages filled with yearning figures, endless processions of horsemen drag along in silence through Hyde-Park. The common folks spend their evening in drunkenness and debauchery. Would it not be better for them to sing, dance, or see the affectations of Punchinello—than to spoil health and shorten life by thick beer and deleterious vodka! — English craftsmen revel the day before, on Saturday: on that day (payday) they get their salary, and, instead of the usual twelve hours, work only nine.

To a foreigner in London, the only way to prevent dying of boredom on Sundays—is to go for a ride somewhere out of town.