fee to victims of the recent Chicago fire. The townspeople printed posters for the lecture, entitled “Social Features, Ancient and Modern,” and recruited boys to go through the streets as town criers clanging large bells to announce it. The event enabled Petersburg to send more than $100 to Chicago for victims of the devastating fire.4
In Vincennes, Indiana, Browne addressed the Moral and Social Union on “Science and the Bible,” described in the local newspaper as “the principal features of the Hebrew laws and traditions.” It was well received by most, but not all listeners. According to the report, some clergymen “did not like the idea of being lectured to by Jews and see them carry off the palm of public applause....” One Catholic priest became so agitated that he provoked Browne into challenging him to debate the subject.5
While we cannot know if the priest objected to the message or the messenger, the lecture’s title suggests that his reaction reflected that of many religious leaders, both Christian and Jewish, to the scientific view of religion. Biblical criticism and Darwinism posed a threat to those unable to come to terms with modernism. Clergymen of all faiths feared them and believed that those who advocated them were largely responsible for the disturbing decline in attendance then apparent at worship services in their churches and synagogues alike.
Reform rabbis had good reason for alarm. They recognized that most of their rapidly acculturating, German-born constituents, however rational their thinking on other issues, still clung to the traditional beliefs in creation by design, man’s creation in God’s image, and God’s revelation of the complete Torah at Sinai. The rabbis posited that if such devotees of logic were influenced by academic biblical scholarship or Darwinism to the extent that they abandoned those underlying tenets of their religious background, they would be left with no intellectual basis to sustain their Judaism. Indeed, some had already found expression of their socio-religious views in Unitarianism and Ethical Culture. As historian Naomi W. Cohen explained, when inquiring minds began to question their inherited beliefs, “... those [denominations] that boasted of their rational nature or their adaptability and relevance to modern society were hard-pressed to reinterpret essential articles of their faith....”6
Although Browne and the highly respected Rabbi Bernhard Felsenthal, of Chicago, maintained that rational inquiry did not threaten Judaism, the vast majority of their colleagues condemned it. Wise gave space in his newspapers to advocates of Darwinism and biblical criticism, but he accepted neither, charging that they were based on unverified hypotheses. For once in agreement with Einhorn, who called Darwinism the “brutalization of our species,” Wise called it “Homo-Brutalism” and “the gorilla theory,” and held that it robbed humans of their “preeminence” making all of nature a battleground.7
Browne, trained in both medicine and theology as was Darwin, viewed evolution from a vantage point similar to that of the evolutionist himself. Backed by his knowledge of biblical criticism and influenced perhaps by having read the works of the American philosopher-historian John Fiske and British philosopher-biologist Herbert Spencer, Browne emulated them in seeking a means of reconciling religion and science rather than undermining the science. Few philosophers, theologians or scientists in the Victorian era shared that view.
Philosophical disagreement did not diminish Wise’s support for Browne’s work, however. Wise continued to promote it, praising Browne’s Jewish Independent for its “rich variety of original reading matter,” and applauding the young rabbi’s start on a new book, “The Encyclopedia of Talmudic Beauties.”8
Browne also began translating The Book Jashar, one of the lost books of the Bible (literally, “The Correct Book”), mentioned in Joshua 10:13 and II Samuel I:18, which contained stories from creation to the time of the judges. Late twentieth century scholars believed that The Book Jashar was a collection of war songs already known at the time of the Bible’s canonization, some of which, including Miriam’s Song at the Sea (Exodus 15:1), were preserved in other sections of Scripture without attribution to earlier sources.
According to Browne, the book had been “in the hands of our people” since time immemorial, although not translated into English until the nineteenth century. Scholars disputed the authenticity of the version most recently discovered, which included dates, genealogies, and full explanations of many obscure passages, and which Emanuel Deutsch, foremost Jewish exponent of biblical criticism, endorsed. Despite the fact that Julius Wellhausen, most famous of the critics, called it a fraud, Browne chose that newest version for his translation.9
Browne completed the work in 1875, with advance orders including one from the Savannah Lodge of B’nai B’rith. Wise praised its “correct and fluent Hebrew.” He also noted that “The Book Jashar” had been first published in Venice in1625, and that the American politician and playwright Mordechai Noah had reportedly translated it into English earlier in the nineteenth century. Apparently lost, the knowledge of Noah’s work may have inspired Browne to undertake his own translation.10
Much as he enjoyed these intellectual pursuits, as a congregational rabbi Browne did not have the luxury of hiding in an ivory tower. He soon became involved in one of the petty conflicts that Victorian codes of conduct frequently ignited within status-conscious, middle class society. Ostensibly it began shortly after the Brownes returned from their honeymoon. At that time David Heiman, an influential member of the Evansville congregation, complained that he and his wife had been insulted by the rabbi at the latter’s wedding dinner: when the Heimans attempted to sit at the table reserved for the bridal party, someone—presumably Browne—referred them to seats at the head of a different table. A local newspaper learned of the perceived affront and asked Browne about it. The rabbi remained silent until a persistent but seemingly friendly reporter from a rival paper persuaded him that he should tell his side of the story in order to defend himself.11
Acknowledging that the incident had occurred, Browne noted that Heiman did not appear to be offended until months later after returning from a business trip to Metropolis, Indiana. There Heiman claimed to have heard that Browne invoked the name of Jesus Christ in a lecture. While this apparently constituted a crime in Heiman’s view, several people who had attended the lecture testified that it was untrue, which put the rumor to rest. Then Heiman tried again, charging that Browne, after lecturing in Paducah, Kentucky, embezzled proceeds that were designated for charities, one of which was the B’nai B’rith Hebrew Orphan’s Home in Cleveland.
Again exonerated and supported by numerous congregants, Browne offered to forgive Heiman in return for an apology and a large contribution to the Hebrew Orphan’s Home. He received the apology and a small contribution for the home, but only after an unduly long wait. This incensed him to the point of returning the wedding gift that he and Sophie had received from the Heimans.12
The incident evidently struck a deep chord within Browne, for despite continued support from the congregation, in a subsequent interview he unleashed growing grievance over a related situation. The reporter first asked if he would sue for damages, to which Browne replied that he probably would not. If he did, he said, he would represent himself, assisted by Captain W. Frederick Smith, one of the “genial Southern gentlemen and scholars” who had recently come to practice law in Evansville. Then he noted that he thought it would help the clergy if the issue went to court because ministers—rabbis, especially—were being mistreated. They were “disfranchised in every way,” he said, and required to work around the clock for an average salary less than that of a street laborer. Browne noted that it was less onerous with Christians because their ministers could appeal to a conference or synod, whereas rabbis, left to the mercy of their congregants, suffered “all sorts of abuse patiently” because complaints were of no use. In his case, he claimed, if his accuser had succeeded in getting thirty votes against him he would “now be left homeless and under the bans of proscription without relief.”13
Browne did not stop there. In what he may have intended as an innocent plug for Wise’s projected Hebrew Union College, he told the reporter, “You know, sir, that we have no seminaries in this country,
