Sunday in 1850

Harry C. Gilchrist writes,

There were three churches in the village in 1850—the Methodist Episcopal, Reformed Presbyterian, and United Brethren. These, with the school, were centers of attraction for both young and old in the social life of the village. Everyone went to church on Sabbath. The day was held in very high regard. No work was done except attending to the home duties, the stock, and the like. If it was necessary to make a purchase of any kind on Sabbath, the seller was not supposed to accept the money until Monday.

The services became quite exciting sometimes at one or two of the churches, and one’s religious fervor might find expression in shouting without any danger of being arrested, or considered a fit subject for the asylum, or as being possessed of a devil. Strange as it may seem in this practical day, there really were some very respectable people who believed in this kind of demonstration.

From the very early days until now this has been a church going community. Our high type of community life without doubt is traceable to this habit. Furthermore, Wilkinsburg has always demanded and received a very high type of religious leadership; and the fruit of such leadership has been manifest in the high type of Christian neighborliness characteristic of those early days.

Were there any sick? If so, their neighbors were not found wanting in many little acts of sympathy, the tempting dishes of food, the proffers of service in baking, washing, or doing the housework, and keeping watch through the long hours of the night. The women were not alone in this. The men offered their services in their various capacities as well. If death came, the men kept wake, as was the custom. If a widow and orphans were left, they never went hungry or without clothing for everyone in the village regarded it as his duty to see that part of his surplus went to the stricken ones.

The sorrow of one was the sorrow of all,— as were also their joys. It was these little acts of helpfulness and expressions of sympathy that touched the well-springs of all that was good and noble in the human heart. . . .