all knew that he rode, but he would not spoil the traditionalist ambience.
At Montefiore Schiff passed on all policies, but he stayed clear of religious
rules and customs at JTS. At one commencement he charged the graduates
to hold fast to the spirit of the Torah, “which fundamentally must not be al-
tered.” The Law must never become “a sterile letter.”^56 Such remarks,
however, could have come as easily from Reformers as from Conservatives.
The seminary took its Americanizing role seriously. It required appli-
cants for the rabbinate to hold a B.A. degree and to be well grounded in
secular subjects. Courses in homiletics, elocution, and pastoral work taught
the students how to deliver sermons in English and conduct decorous ser-
vices. Although Schiff worried lest the faculty show too little of an “Ameri-
can spirit,” the men appointed by Schechter imparted a Western, scientific
approach to scholarship. Schechter himself urged that the seminary give
heed to American ideals. He advised that in a country so loyal to the Bible,
the school pay greater attention to biblical studies than was customary in
Europe. Schiff, who knew of Schechter’s fascination with Lincoln, bought
a bronze tablet of the Gettysburg address for display at the school, perhaps
to inspire the men to become “self-reliant, dignified Americans.” Mean-
time, the directors continued to stress the aim of Americanization in ap-
peals to students as well as potential donors. Pushing for the Americaniza-
tion of the Russians, members of the board, like Schiff, assumed that
Americanization did not require shortchanging Judaism.^57
The major benefactor of JTS, Schiff underwrote the school’s training
program for teachers.^58 His purchase of famous private collections as well
as individual books for the library was equally impressive. The library
would have been still richer had World War I not cut short his plan to buy
the vast collection of books and manuscripts amassed by Baron David
Guenzburg of St. Petersburg. But although Schiff and his fellow directors
carefully watched the seminary’s endowment and investments, the returns
did not cover operating expenses. Repeatedly, the board was called on to
find additional money for faculty salaries, needy students, and pensions for
the widows of Schechter and Professor Israel Friedlaender. Schiff, the
treasurer and the wealthiest, despaired of what he called a hand-to-mouth
existence, but he responded to most requests. When he agreed to loans for
rabbinical students, he stipulated only partial aid; he insisted that the
young men had to learn to make sacrifices for the sake of their careers.
Deficits were attacked in a straightforward Schiff-like manner: “He would
compute the sum, and on his own pad, with a pencil, write out: ‘I agree to
give $—— to meet this deficit,’ the amount he named usually being one
half of the total. Then he would pass it around to such of his fellow direc-
tors as he thought would join him, and hand the slip back to the chairman,
with the sum generally completed.”^59
Financial considerations led Schiff and others to consider a merger with
104 Jacob H. Schiff