I am convinced that the vigour of the nation and the health of our own souls depends on keeping Sunday,—not only by going to Church, but by so arranging it that we get into an unworldly atmosphere, and have leisure for the thought and reading which develop our spiritual nature.
Such a Sunday is the development of the Fourth Commandment, keeping it in the spirit though not in the letter.
I am inclined to think that the Fourth Commandment is the most important of all: if that is faithfully observed—if we spend due time in God's Presence looking at things as He does, judging ourselves by His standard—then the rest of our lives must in time get raised to the level of those "golden hours;" we are as certain to improve as a person who regularly goes up into bracing air is certain to grow stronger.
Bishop Wordsworth's hymn suggests the highest lines on which to take the subject, and I would ask, are you specially careful to come to breakfast full of sunshine on Sunday mornings, as on a "day of rest and gladness"? Is it a cooling fountain to you? Do you soak yourself enough in good thoughts to be more soothed and peaceful than you were on Saturday? Was last Sunday a Pisgah's mountain?—did you cast so much as a glance at the promised Land, at what will make the true joy of Heaven, the being like Christ? did you seriously think over where you were unlike Him and where you could be more like Him in the coming week? "New graces ever gaining:"—did you gain any grace at all last Sunday—or would this week have been exactly the same if Sunday had been wiped out? Make up a prayer, for Saturday's use, on the ideas in this hymn, or use the hymn in your prayers, as inspiration on Saturday night and as self-examination on Sunday night.
Sunday should, as the Warden of Keble says, be a day of new plans for using the coming week better than we did the last, and this implies quiet time for thoughtfully considering both the past and the coming week. On Sunday we should breathe different air and see weekday vexations from a Sunday point of view.
Our Sunday reading may well include all that is referred to in Phil. iv. 8: "Whatsoever things are noble." I would not say this or that book is wrong on Sunday—a book which is good on Saturday does not become bad on Sunday, but, as is the case with many excellent weekday employments, it may very well be a misuse of Sunday time, because we could be doing something better. I strongly advise you to make your Sunday books—and as far as possible all your Sunday habits—different from those of the week, if only to give yourself a chance of getting out of grooves, of getting that complete change of air which is so conducive to a new start in one's inner life and mental vigour. Lord Lawrence's Life would be splendid Sunday reading, but if you are reading it in the week, you would be wise to put it away on Sunday in favour of a change of air.
It is quite possible that you are busy on Sunday, sometimes a father or brothers, hard at work all the week, want you to amuse them on Sunday. Or you may be busy with Sunday-school or Classes, which equally prevents the personal keeping of Sunday, while many household arrangements may make an old-fashioned Sunday impossible. (Let those who can have it be thankful instead of rebelling at its dulness!)
At the same time, I would suggest that the very young men for whose sake you are making the sacrifice—(the sacrifice of doing things which amuse you as much as them, sometimes more, since a young man occasionally likes to lie in a hammock and read, without having the girls always about)—those very young men need Sunday quiet whether they desire it or not.
Would it not be well also, if you do have games, to keep to those which allow of talk if the impulse comes, since a Sunday talk is often a help, and whether or no it is combined with boating or golf.
I do not say to you, stand out against household ways and make yourself disagreeable by carrying out a Puritan Sunday—the only kind I believe in. No; surely that would be a very unchristlike way of spending Sunday.