yet he would strut about and flare up whenever he entered into debate.
On one occasion he said to a jurist, “You are ignorant of real knowledge; that is why Allah has darkened your face.”
Among his works are: The Viziers; Unveiling the Flaws in al-Mutanabbī’s Poetry; and The Most Beautiful Names.
He is also the author of the famous couplets (1):
The glass turned delicate and so did the wine,
alike they seemed, and the matter grew entwined;
As though there were wine with no goblet in sight,
and as though a goblet yet no wine.
It is said that al-Ṣāḥib accumulated so many books that transporting them alone would have required 400 camels. When he decided to start narrating hadith he repented, built a chamber for himself that he called the “House of Repentance,” secluded himself there for a week devoted to good deeds, obtained written attestations from a number of scholars confirming the sincerity of his repentance, and then sat to dictate traditions while crowds flocked to hear him. Each year he distributed 5,000 dinars among the scholars of Baghdad—and its men of letters as well—and he detested anyone who dabbled in philosophy.
He fell ill with dysentery, and whenever he rose from the basin he left 10 dinars beside it for the servant. Once recovered, he gave 50,000 dinars in charity.
It is also reported that Nūḥ b. Manṣūr, the ruler of Transoxiana, wrote summoning him to appoint him vizier, but al-Ṣāḥib excused himself, saying that his books alone would take 400 camels to move—so what, then, of the finery appropriate to his rank!
He bore the honorific Kāfī al-Kufāt (“Mainstay of the Viziers”).
He died in Rayy, and his body was carried to Isfahan. When his bier was brought out, the people burst into loud weeping.