Summary

Portrait of Richard Francis Burton Richard Francis Burton The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night… (1894)

Nor is my sympathy with their prime object, namely, to fit the Roman alphabet for supplanting all others. Those who learn languages, and many do so, by the eye as well as by the ear, well know the advantages of a special character to distinguish, for instance, Syriac from Arabic, Gujrati from Marathi. Again this Roman hand bewitched may have its use in purely scientific and literary works; but it would be wholly out of place in one whose purpose is that of the novel, to amuse rather than to instruct. Moreover, the devices perplex the simple and teach nothing to the learned.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Richard Francis Burton Richard Francis Burton The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night… (1894)

The reader has here, therefore, the most complete English edition of The Nights that can ever be published, the extreme grossness of the few words and passages omitted absolutely precluding their appearance. It cannot, however, be reasonably said that these slight excisions in any way damage the Book; on the contrary, they enable this great monument of Eastern literature—an acknowledged masterpiece of translation—to be freed from the burdensome restriction of being kept under lock and key, and to take its proper place on the library shelf alongside Cervantes and Shakespeare.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Richard Francis Burton Richard Francis Burton The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night… (1894)

He renders poetry by prose and apologises for not omitting it altogether: he neglects assonance and he is at once too Oriental and not Oriental enough. He had small store of Arabic at the time—Lane of the Nights is not Lane of the Dictionary—and his pages are disfigured by many childish mistakes. Worst of all, the three handsome volumes are rendered unreadable as Sale's Koran by their anglicised Latin, their sesquipedalian un-English words, and the stiff and stilted style of half a century ago when our prose was, perhaps, the worst in Europe.
Source: Wikisource

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