I am fearful, I may have dwelt too long upon this subject; but the beauty of the poetry has led me on; and a true lover of poetry, like a true poet, must be enthusiastic, and enthusiasm often carries a person beyond the strict limits of prudence: the pleasure also of selection was too great to be slightly indulged. My only difficulty was to fix upon so few, where all were excellent. Before I conclude this Preface, there are two other points perhaps necessary to be mentioned. In the first place, there are in M. Galland various errors and contradictions with respect to time and place. Some few of these I have taken the liberty to correct, others I thought it best not to alter; trusting that every candid reader will allow for such errors, which, with respect to the work at large, are of little moment. Secondly, in respect to names; I have constantly followed M. Galland, both because these names are already best known, and because other writers do not agree about the orthography of them. Whether, therefore, we take the Mahomet of Professor White and M. Galland, the Mohammed of Carlyle, or the Mahummud of Scot; whether we say the caliph and sultaun Haroon al Rasheed with the last, or the khaliph and sultan Haroun Alraschid with Carlyle, is in my opinion a matter of little moment. There is one thing, which would be much better; and that is, for all writers to adhere to one mode, whether it comes nearest to the pronunciation in the original language, or not. TO THE AUTHOR OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS. Bless’d child of Genius, whose fantastic sprite Rides on the vivid lightnings flash, or roves Thro’ flow’ry vallies and Elysian groves; Or, borne on vent’rous pinions, takes its flight To those dread realms, where, hid from mortal sight, Fierce Genii roam, or where, in bright alcoves, Mild Fairies reign, and woo their secret loves; Whate’er thy theme, whether the magic might Of the stern kings, that dwell ’mid ocean’s roar, Or Sindbad’s perils, or the cruel wiles Of Afric’s curst enchanters, charm us more; Or ought more wond’rous still our ear beguiles; Well pleased we listen to thy fabling lore, And truth itself with less attraction smiles. THO. RUSSELL. THE ARABIAN NIGHTS. IT is recorded in the chronicles of the Sassanians, [1] those ancient monarchs of Persia who extended their empire over the continent and islands of India, beyond the Ganges, and almost to China, that there was an illustrious prince of that powerful house, who was as much beloved by his subjects for his wisdom and prudence, as he was feared by the surrounding states, from the report of his bravery, and the reputation of his hardy and well-disciplined army. He had two sons: the elder, called Schahriar, was endowed with all the virtues of his father, nor was Schahzenan, the younger, less deserving of praise.