Abū Zur‘ah said, “When Ahmad died, his books were surveyed and were found to fill twelve balanced camel-loads (1). Not a single cover bore the title ‘Hadith of so-and-so,’ nor did any inner page begin ‘So-and-so narrated to us’; he had every bit of it committed to memory (2).

Hasan ibn Munabbih relates: I heard Abū Zur‘ah say, ‘Abū ʿAbd Allāh once brought out several fascicles for me; every entry in them began “Sufyān, Sufyān.” Because no report carried the formula “So-and-so narrated to us,” I assumed they all came through one teacher and chose some material from them. When he then read the texts back to me, he kept saying, “Wakīʿ narrated to us, and Yahyā, and so-and-so narrated to us.” I was astonished, for I myself could never do that (3).’

Ibrāhīm al-Harbī commented, ‘When I looked at Abū ʿAbd Allāh it seemed as though God had gathered in him the knowledge of those who came before and those who would come after.’

A certain man said, ‘I have never seen anyone who understood the juristic import and meanings of hadith better than Ahmad.’

Ahmad ibn Salamah reports: I heard Ibn Rāhwayh say, ‘I used to sit with Ahmad and Ibn Maʿīn, reviewing what we had memorised. I would ask, “What ruling does this hadith yield? How is it to be interpreted?” Everyone would remain silent—except Ahmad.’

Abū Bakr al-Khallāl observed, ‘Ahmad once copied out the works of raʾy (speculative legal opinion) and memorised them, but thereafter he took no interest in them.’

Ibrāhīm ibn Shammās recounted, ‘We asked Wakīʿ about Khārijah ibn Muṣʿab, and he replied, “Ahmad has forbidden me to transmit anything from him.”’

Al-ʿAbbās ibn Muḥammad al-Khallāl said: Ibrāhīm ibn Shammās narrated to us, ‘I heard…’