Preface
After
the Turkish War (1877-1878) I made a series of travels in the
Orient.
From the little remarkable Balkan peninsula, I went across the
Caucasus to Central Asia and Persia, and finally, in 1887, visited
India, an admirable country which had attracted me from my earliest
childhood. My purpose in this journey was to study and know, at
home,
the peoples who inhabit India and their customs, the grand and
mysterious archæology, and the colossal and majestic nature of
their
country. Wandering about without fixed plans, from one place to
another, I came to mountainous Afghanistan, whence I regained India
by way of the picturesque passes of Bolan and Guernaï. Then, going
up the Indus to Raval Pindi, I ran over the Pendjab—the land of the
five rivers; visited the Golden Temple of Amritsa—the tomb of the
King of Pendjab, Randjid Singh, near Lahore; and turned toward
Kachmyr, "The Valley of Eternal Bliss." Thence I directed
my peregrinations as my curiosity impelled me, until I arrived in
Ladak, whence I intended returning to Russia by way of Karakoroum
and
Chinese Turkestan.One
day, while visiting a Buddhist convent on my route, I learned from
a
chief lama, that there existed in the archives of Lhasa, very
ancient memoirs relating to the life of Jesus Christ and the
occidental nations, and that certain great monasteries possessed
old
copies and translations of those chronicles.As
it was little probable that I should make another journey into this
country, I resolved to put off my return to Europe until a later
date, and, cost what it might, either find those copies in the
great
convents or go to Lhasa—a journey which is far from being so
dangerous and difficult as is generally supposed, involving only
such
perils as I was already accustomed to, and which would not make me
hesitate at attempting it.During
my sojourn at Leh, capital of Ladak, I visited the great convent
Himis, situated near the city, the chief lama of which informed me
that their monastic library contained copies of the manuscripts in
question. In order that I might not awaken the suspicions of the
authorities concerning the object of my visit to the cloister, and
to
evade obstacles which might be opposed to me as a Russian,
prosecuting further my journey in Thibet, I gave out upon my return
to Leh that I would depart for India, and so left the capital of
Ladak. An unfortunate fall, causing the breaking of a leg,
furnished
me with an absolutely unexpected pretext for returning to the
monastery, where I received surgical attention. I took advantage of
my short sojourn among the lamas to obtain the consent of their
chief
that they should bring to me, from their library, the manuscripts
relating to Jesus Christ, and, assisted by my interpreter, who
translated for me the Thibetan language, transferred carefully to
my
notebook what the lama read to me.Not
doubting at all the authenticity of this chronicle, edited with
great
exactitude by the Brahminic, and more especially the Buddhistic
historians of India and Nepaul, I desired, upon my return to
Europe,
to publish a translation of it.To
this end, I addressed myself to several universally known
ecclesiastics, asking them to revise my notes and tell me what they
thought of them.Mgr.
Platon, the celebrated metropolitan of Kiew, thought that my
discovery was of great importance. Nevertheless, he sought to
dissuade me from publishing the memoirs, believing that their
publication could only hurt me. "Why?" This the venerable
prelate refused to tell me more explicitly. Nevertheless, since our
conversation took place in Russia, where the censor would have put
his veto upon such a work, I made up my mind to wait.A
year later, I found myself in Rome. I showed my manuscript to a
cardinal very near to the Holy Father, who answered me literally in
these words:—"What good will it do to print this? Nobody will
attach to it any great importance and you will create a number of
enemies. But, you are still very young! If it is a question of
money
which concerns you, I can ask for you a reward for your notes, a
sum
which will repay your expenditures and recompense you for your loss
of time." Of course, I refused.In
Paris I spoke of my project to Cardinal Rotelli, whose acquaintance
I
had made in Constantinople. He, too, was opposed to having my work
printed, under the pretext that it would be premature. "The
church," he added, "suffers already too much from the new
current of atheistic ideas, and you will but give a new food to the
calumniators and detractors of the evangelical doctrine. I tell you
this in the interest of all the Christian churches."Then
I went to see M. Jules Simon. He found my matter very interesting
and
advised me to ask the opinion of M. Renan, as to the best way of
publishing these memoirs. The next day I was seated in the cabinet
of
the great philosopher. At the close of our conversation, M. Renan
proposed that I should confide to him the memoirs in question, so
that he might make to the Academy a report upon the
discovery.This
proposition, as may be easily understood, was very alluring and
flattering to my
amour propre. I,
however, took away with me the manuscript, under the pretext of
further revising it. I foresaw that if I accepted the proposed
combination, I would only have the honor of having found the
chronicles, while the illustrious author of the "Life of Jesus"
would have the glory of the publication and the commenting upon it.
I
thought myself sufficiently prepared to publish the translation of
the chronicles, accompanying them with my notes, and, therefore,
did
not accept the very gracious offer he made to me. But, that I might
not wound the susceptibility of the great master, for whom 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
