But she replied: "Papa, I do not mean what is the most beautiful object
in it; I was only expressing my admiration at its beauty."
"In that case you must say," he observed, "'How beautiful is the sky!'"
Upon thinking this over, says Ibn Khallikan, Abu 'l-Aswad invented the
art of grammar.
Abu 'l-Aswad Ad-Duwali thus is the father of this book, for had there
been no grammarians I am sure that Ibn Khallikan would never have
written it. Poetry tickled him; but grammar was his chief delight, as it
was the chief delight of all his friends and, one gathers, of all
Baghdad. Here is an example: "Al-Mamun, having asked Al-Yazidi about
something, received from him this answer: 'No; and may God accept my
life as a ransom for yours, Commander of the Faithful!'
"'Well said!' exclaimed the khalif. 'Never was the word _and_ better
placed than in the praise which you have just uttered.'" He then made
him a present.
We get an insight both into the passion for the new science of grammar
and what might be called the physical humour of the East in this
anecdote. Abu Safwan Khalid Ibn Safwan, a member of the tribe of Tamim,
was celebrated as an eloquent speaker. He used to visit Bilal Ibn Abi
Burda and converse with him, but his language was frequently
ungrammatical. This grew at length so irksome that Bilal said to him: "O
Khalid! you make me narrations fit for khalifs to hear, but you commit
as many faults against grammar as the women who carry water in the
streets."
Stung with this reproach, Khalid went to learn grammar at the mosque,
and some time after lost his sight. From that period, whenever Bilal
rode by in state, he used to ask who it was, and on being answered that
it was the Emir, he would say: "There goes a summer-cloud, soon to be
dispelled."
When this was told to Bilal, he exclaimed: "By Allah! it shall not be
dispelled till he get a full shower from it;" and he then ordered him a
whipping of two hundred strokes.
When books were so few and most learning came through the ear, memory
had to be cultivated. The Traditionist, Ibn Rahwaih, was a Macaulay in
his way. "I know," he used to say, "by heart seventy thousand
traditions; I have read one hundred thousand, and can recollect in what
work each is to be found. I never heard anything once without learning
it by heart, nor learned anything by heart which I afterwards forgot."
The sittings of the teacher, Ibn Al-Aarabi (767-846), who knew by heart
more poetry than any man ever seen, were crowded by people anxious for
instruction. Abu 'l-Abbas Thalah said: "I attended the sittings held by
Ibn Al-Aarabi, and saw there upwards of one hundred persons, some asking
him questions and others reading to him; he answered every question
without consulting a book. I followed his lessons upwards of ten years,
and I never saw him with a book in his hand; and yet he dictated to his
pupils camel-loads of philological information."
The grammarian Moad Ibn Muslim Al-Harra left some good poetry, which he
gave as having been uttered by genii, demons and female demons. The
caliph Ar-Raschid once said to him: "If thou sawest what thou hast
described, thou hast seen wonders; if not, thou hast composed a nice
piece of literature."
An-Nahhas the grammarian who, on being given a turban-cloth, would cut
it into three from avarice, met his death, in 950, in an unfortunate
manner--being, although living in so remote a period, mistaken for a
"profiteer." I quote Ibn Khallikan's words: "He had seated himself on
the staircase of the Nilometer, by the side of the river, which was then
on the increase, and began to scan some verses according to the rules of
prosody, when a common fellow who heard him said: 'This man is
pronouncing a charm to prevent the overflow of the Nile, so as to raise
the price of provisions.' He then thrust him with his foot into the
river and nothing more was heard of him."
Not all these learned men were philosophical, even though they were
philosophers. Abu Nizar Ibn Safi Malik An-Nuhat assumed the title
"Prince of Grammarians," but if any other name was given to him by those
addressing him he would fly into a passion.
The old fellows could be superstitious too. It is amusing to read that
Abu Obaida, when repeating passages of the _Koran_ or relating
Traditions, made mistakes designedly: "For," said he, "grammar brings
ill luck."