Families purchased whisky and laid it away in their cellars for future consumption, and that it might improve with age. Judge Hugh Henry Brackenridge declared that the visit of the “Whisky Boys”--as the Insurgents from Braddocksfield were called--to Pittsburgh cost him “four barrels of old whisky.”[128] The statement caused Henry Adams, in his life of Albert Gallatin, to volunteer the assertion that it nowhere appeared “how much whisky the western gentleman usually kept in his house.”[129] There was no legislation against selling liquors on Sundays. The only law on the subject was an old one under which persons found drinking and tippling in ale-houses, taverns, and other public houses on Sundays, were liable to be fined one shilling and sixpence; and the keepers of the houses upon conviction were required to pay ten shillings. The line of demarcation between proper and improper drinking being faint, the law proved ineffectual to prevent drinking on Sundays. Religion had not kept pace with material progress. The people had been too much engrossed in secular affairs to attend to spiritual matters. They were withal generous, and practiced the Christian virtues; and never failed to help their unfortunate neighbors. This disposition was manifested in various ways. Losses by fire were of frequent occurrence and were apt to cause distress or ruin to those affected. In these cases the citizens always furnished relief. An instance where this was done was in the case of William Thorn. Thorn was a cabinet-maker on Market Street, and built windmills and Dutch fans.[130] When the house which he occupied was burned to the ground and he lost all his tools and valuable ready-made furniture, a liberal subscription was made by the citizens, and he was enabled to again commence his business.[131] But there was little outward observance of religious forms. The Germans had made some progress in that direction. The little log building where they worshipped had been succeeded by a brick church. The only English church was the Presbyterian Meeting House facing on Virgin Alley, now Oliver Avenue, erected in 1786. It was the same building of squared timbers in which the congregation had originally worshipped. From 1789 to 1793, the church had languished greatly. There was no regular pastor; services were held at irregular and widely separated intervals. Two of the men who served as supplies left the ministry and became lawyers.[132] From 1793 to 1800, the church was all but dead. The house was deserted and falling into ruin. Only once, so far as there is any record, were Presbyterian services held in the building during this period. It was in 1799 that the Rev. Francis Herron, passing through Pittsburgh, was induced to deliver a sermon to a congregation consisting of fifteen or eighteen persons “much to the annoyance of the swallows,” as Herron ingenuously related, which had taken possession of the premises.[133]