I felt a profound respect, I made up my mind to delay publication until
after his death, a fatality which could not be far off, if I might judge
from the apparent general weakness of M. Renan. A short time after M.
Renan's death, I wrote to M. Jules Simon again for his advice. He
answered me, that it was my affair to judge of the opportunity for
making the memoirs public.

I therefore put my notes in order and now publish them, reserving the
right to substantiate the authenticity of these chronicles. In my
commentaries I proffer the arguments which must convince us of the
sincerity and good faith of the Buddhist compilers. I wish to add that
before criticising my communication, the societies of _savans_ can,
without much expense, equip a scientific expedition having for its
mission the study of those manuscripts in the place where I discovered
them, and so may easily verify their historic value.

--_Nicolas Notovitch_

The Unknown Life of Jesus Christ

_A Journey in Thibet_

During my sojourn in India, I often had occasion to converse with the
Buddhists, and the accounts they gave me of Thibet excited my curiosity
to such an extent that I resolved to make a journey into that still
almost unknown country. For this purpose I set out upon a route crossing
Kachmyr (Cashmere), which I had long intended to visit.

On the 14th of October, 1887, I entered a railway car crowded with
soldiers, and went from Lahore to Raval-Pinidi, where I arrived the next
day, near noon. After resting a little and inspecting the city, to which
the permanent garrison gives the aspect of a military camp, I provided
myself with the necessaries for a journey, where horses take the place
of the railway cars. Assisted by my servant, a colored man of
Pondichery, I packed all my baggage, hired a tonga (a two-wheeled
vehicle which is drawn by two horses), stowed myself upon its back seat,
and set out upon the picturesque road leading to Kachmyr, an excellent
highway, upon which we travelled rapidly. We had to use no little skill
in making our way through the ranks of a military caravan--its baggage
carried upon camels--which was part of a detachment returning from a
country camp to the city. Soon we arrived at the end of the valley of
Pendjab, and climbing up a way with infinite windings, entered the
passes of the Himalayas. The ascent became more and more steep. Behind
us spread, like a beautiful panorama, the region we had just trav