Previous academic studies have shown that the distance and separation we often assume between civilizations (e.g., Eastern and Western, Christian and Islamic) are actually not so distant and separate after all. Key advancements in ideas, inventions, and the like, that appear in one part of the world may have influences (acknowledged or not) traceable to a very different cultural context. George Saliba’s work on the Islamic scientific tradition had highlighted problems to resolve, “not only in order to understand the extent to which Islamic science was integral to the science of the Renaissance, but also in order to understand the very nature of the Renaissance science itself.”^[1]

In the world of differences between schools of thought or religious communities (e.g., between Sunnī Muslims and Shīʿī Muslims), there is also a tendency of each side to focus on its own ideas, narratives, and books, without considering how the intellectual production of “the other side” sheds light on its own history, tradition, and narrative. Devin Stewart had investigated the sources of Munyat al-Murīd fī ʾĀdāb al-Mufīd wa-l-Mustafīd by the Twelver Shīʿī Zayn al-Dīn al-ʿĀmilī [al-Shahīd al-Thānī] (d. 965/1558) as one example of a larger phenomenon, “of intellectual borrowing and adaptation across what were often viewed and continue to be viewed, as rigid sectarian boundaries.”^[2] Haider’s historiographical research had characterized some details of early Islamic historical writing as challenging the fact/fiction dichotomy.^[3] With a slightly different analytical purpose, the present study examines the function of interventions in another set of learning etiquette manuals ––the treatise ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn relative to the work Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim. I highlight the subtle interventions that ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn represents and interpret them as serving the formation of a distinct type of learner (that is, different than the one likely envisioned by the author of Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim).

Studies in specialized fields closely examine and compare the intellectual productions associated with different communities to uncover the threads of evidence that support, refute, refine, or otherwise synthesize these related theories. This includes studies from a wide range of fields: For instance, some may focus on the history of science, some on the history of religion, and others on the history of ethics and learning (which crosses several areas of intellectual history, and deals with content relevant to philosophy).

The recently published study, “Learning Etiquette History in an Age of Confessional Ambiguity : Two Islamic Learning Treatises?” did just that. The most direct contribution it made was to draw attention to two different learning etiquette manuals, associated with seemingly different communities and traditions, and to show how the differences between the two go beyond what meets the eye. This was not merely another example of showing evident similarity and potential borrowing between two treatises. Rather, this was mainly to focus on the function of these similarities and differences, of these inclusions and omissions ––the role that they play in forming the individual being trained, specifically. In this way, the study makes a contribution not only on the textually “empirical” side, and not only in supporting/complementing previous theorizations, but also in distinctly theorizing for the function of such divergences.

At the level of theorization, academics familiar with my other work would rightly read this article as a new case study gesturing toward my discussion of subject-formation (an enhanced book version of which is “in the pipeline,” so to speak).^[4] Besides these overarching findings, there are “micro-contributions” throughout the article, which would be difficult to summarize in such a brief piece. I will include three examples below for the sake of demonstration after emphasizing the modern-day relevance and some historical associations of the treatises in question. Notably not included here is the section discussing the questionability of the briefer treatise’s attribution to al-Ṭūsī.

Contemporary relevance of a medieval treatise

Within the traditional circles of learning in the ‘ḥawzah al-ʿilmiyya’ of Najaf, Iraq, the descriptor ‘al-Ṭūsī’ refers most readily either to shaykh al-ṭāʾifa (the head of the religious community), Muḥammad b. al-Ḥasan al-Ṭūsī (d. 460/1067), who is buried in the vicinity of Imām ʿAlī’s shrine and is greatly responsible for establishing Najaf’s lasting legacy as a central hub of the ‘ḥawzah / ḥawza / howzeh’ community; or to Naṣīr al-Dīn al-Ṭūsī (597–672/1201–1274), the renowned polymath whose Tajrīd al-iʿtiqād continues to be a key text for philosophical and theological study and commentary in the ḥawza curriculum. Many beginners in the ḥawza, however, are introduced—in one way or another—to the latter al-Ṭūsī through a treatise famously attributed to him, summarizing the proper etiquette of learners, called ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn.

The contemporary relevance of this treatise becomes apparent upon consideration of the context in which the treatise’s ideas continue to circulate—within the so-called ‘al-ḥawza al-ʿilmiyya’ community. Linguistically, ‘ḥawza’ can refer to a ‘region/area/side (nāḥiya)’, and is etymologically related to the notion of ‘collecting/acquiring/accumulating (ḥawz)’. The ‘ḥawza’ associated with knowledge/study/learning (ʿilm) is ‘al-ḥawza al-ʿilmiyya’. While this phrase has taken on a terminological coinage in the contemporary (albeit relatively traditional) Islamic learning circles and seminaries of Qom, Najaf, Karbala, and other Twelver Shīʿī Muslim hubs of study, the phrase ‘ḥawza [of the Muslims]’ (the learned among them being the most obvious examples) appears in some of the earliest Muslim supplication literature. For instance, in a prayer for Muslim frontiersmen, attributed to the Imam ʿAlī b. al-Ḥusayn (d. 95/713), one asks God to, “guard their ḥawza.”^[5] In an earlier letter to Muʿāwiyah (d. 60/680), his grandfather, the Imam ʿAlī b. ʾAbī ṭālib (d. 40/661), reportedly wrote about fending for God’s religion/law and/or the person and standing of the Prophet Muḥammad (d. 11/632), using the phrase, “and so god willed it for us to defend his ḥawza.”^[6]

When it comes to the contemporary coinage for Twelver Shīʿī centers of learning, although the discussions of recent technical definition attempts are informative, the following description (not a strict definition, but a description informed by this author’s ethnographic insight)^[7] arguably better captures the range of references to the term ḥawza among contemporary Twelver Shīʿī Muslims pursuing traditional religious learning: The ḥawza is a center of knowledge in the traditional Islamic context, a hub for seeking sacred learning that is meant not only to engage the intellect but cultivate the character of its community members. Al-ḥawza al-ʿilmiyya is often translated as an Islamic ‘seminary’ of sorts, but it is perhaps more accurately described as a scholarly community of masters and seekers of knowledge, in which membership and rank depend on both scholarly merit as well as upright character, including the observance of traditional etiquette.

When used to refer to such a collective network worldwide, the so-called al-ḥawza al-ʿilmiyya community has concentrated hubs of intellectual activity centered around historical holy sites, most notably the shrine of Imām ʿAlī in the holy city of Najaf, Iraq, and the shrine of Lady Fāṭimah Maʿṣūmah (d. 201/ 816) in the holy city of Qom, Iran. Membership within that broader community would depend more on observing its leading scholars’ widely accepted approaches and norms than on studying at a particular location. But the term ḥawza ʿilmiyya or plainly ḥawza can also refer to specific locations of learning in particular (i.e. not just the city hubs, but specific institutions within the city), such that there exist a plural ḥawzāt throughout the world, typically wherever there are qualified masters from within the tradition who oversee learning circles, teach traditional texts according to the etiquette/norms of the broader ḥawza community, and foster an atmosphere of intellectual rigor and spirituality.

Members of the ḥawza community are continuously evaluated by more senior scholars, peers and, potentially, qualified students, on their intellectual achievement and character, and so formal ‘degrees/certificates’ are not traditionally regarded as the final word on any given community member’s credentials as a ḥawza scholar/student. To some extent, this even applies to written or oral license/authorization (ijāza) of ijtihad. That is because an individual’s intellectual and ethical performance would continue to be monitored throughout life for any serious lapses of method or character, potentially disqualifying the person from the license/authorization or any other recommendation/endorsement affiliated with the ḥawza. To sum up a key point here, the word ḥawza is used to describe:

· a specific local institution of traditional Twelver Shīʿī religious learning;

· a community of such learning centered around a holy shrine, including but not limited to the former;

· and/or the collective global community consisting of the former.^[8]

The circulation of the treatise which is the subject of this article among the ḥawza al-ʿilmiyya community, thus, makes it part of a global conversation as relevant to the history of ideas as it is to the ongoing (re)formation of Muslim community members. Moreover, learning etiquettes are, at once, the initiatory and sustaining elements of membership in this global community. The next section will also emphasize how this conversation is by no means limited to Shīʿī-specific relevance within Islamic intellectual history.

ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn and Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim

ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn—attributed to the Shīʿī Naṣīr al-Dīn al-Ṭūsī—exhibits striking similarities relative to Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim by the Sunnī Burhān al-Islām al-Zarnūjī (fl. between 576/1180 and ca. 640/1242). The source-critical remarks below are, thus, merely part of introducing the treatise attributed to al-Ṭūsī, opening up possibilities for further examination by interested researchers. Both texts have been influential in their respective Shīʿī and Sunnī circles of learners, and the latter text in particular has been recognized as a key contribution in the history of Islamic writings dealing with the etiquette of scholars and learners (ʾadab al-ʿālim wa-l-mutaʿallim).^[9] The two treatises follow the same outline of about 12 sections, representing their shared content, and which can be approximately reconstructed as follows:

Section 1: The Definition and Merit of Knowledge.

Section 2: The Intention.

Section 3: Choosing the Knowledge [to be studied], the Teacher, and the Study Partner; and Steadfastness.

Section 4: Diligence, Persistence and Motivation.

Section 5: Initiating [One’s] Studies, the [Course] Load, and the Sequence.

Section 6: Relying [on God].

Section 7: The Time of Acquiring [Knowledge].

Section 8: Compassion and Advice.

Section 9: Benefitting [in Terms of Knowledge].

Section 10: Piety in the Pursuit of Knowledge.

Section 11: Factors Helping with Memorization and Others Leading to Forgetfulness.

Section 12: Factors that Invite Sustenance; Prevent Sustenance; Increase Longevity; and Decrease It.

Example one: On brevity

The most notable difference is the brevity of al-Ṭūsī’s treatise—a brevity he declares is intentional at the beginning of the document^[10] and which is also an indication that he was likely referring to al-Zarnūjī’s slightly more elaborate treatise (if not some earlier shared reference) while writing his own. For example, after noting that the Prophet prescribed the pursuit of knowledge as an obligation for every Muslim, male or female, the two authors qualify this by explaining that only seeking knowledge required to address one’s (immediate) state (al-ḥāl) is an obligation, but al-Zarnūjī elaborates by providing examples while al-Ṭūsī does not.^[11]

This intervention may be interpreted in at least two ways: Firstly, by al-Ṭūsī’s day, the scope of obligatory learning had already been consolidated/clarified and the point could simply be summarily made without need for examples. Secondly, elaboration with examples would be left to the instructor’s discretion as s/he explained the brief statement for students. The latter consequence would fall in line with a pedagogical choice characteristic of mutūn (sing. matn), which were highly condensed educational texts often made the focus of metatexts that commented and elaborated on them.

The instructor’s intervening role would thus be emphasized as that of a companion facilitating the learner’s education, as opposed to enabling the learner to focus on learning from books alone without reference to a living scholarly network. Moreover, examples often include reference to an instructor’s scholarly network or intellectual genealogy, features of which can be invoked iteratively to serve a sectarian learner-formation project. By omitting reference to specific examples citing Sunnī scholars, such as Muḥammad b. al-Ḥasan [al-Shaybānī (d. 189/805)],^[12] or referring to particular texts,^[13] al-Ṭūsī allows the treatise to be appropriated for alternative or otherwise broader learner-formation aims.

Example two: On seeking knowledge alongside livelihood

One interesting departure of the treatise attributed to al-Ṭūsī from that associated with al-Zarnūjī arguably appears in the latter’s comments on seeking beneficial learning throughout one’s daily life (beyond the formal class session). While both authors emphasize that the seeker of knowledge should at all times and in all states be seeking beneficial learning from all individuals, quoting the Prophet as having said: ‘Wisdom is the lost item of the believer—wherever s/he finds it, s/he takes it [back]’,^[14] and referencing a saying that goes: ‘Take what is pure and leave what is impure’,^[15] only al-Zarnūjī makes it explicit that ‘seeking knowledge and understanding (fiqh) can be combined with gaining a livelihood (al-kasb) [through a profession/trade]’.^[16] Al-Zarnūjī makes this conclusion after referring to how Abū Ḥanīfa (d. 150/767) became learned by extensive discussion and study in his shop while he worked as a cloth merchant (bazzāz). That being said, the treatise attributed to al-Ṭūsī does include the general statement, also in al-Zarnūjī’s version: ‘One with a sound body and mind has no excuse to abandon learning’.^[17] Both treatises also remind us that ‘in the old days, they used to learn a craft/trade (al-ḥirfa), and then they would learn the knowledge [of the religion]—so that they would not be after people’s wealth.’^[18] But in the context of al-Ṭūsī’s treatise, without al-Zarnūjī’s examples (or similar ones) to reference masters working for a living while learning, such a statement is arguably bereft of any serious emphasis on learners seeking their own livelihood through a craft/trade (as opposed to being supported through stipends funded by religious endowments, donations and the like). In other words, al-Zarnūjī’s examples seem to paint the picture of not only one who learns (at whatever pace) while his/her primary objective is to function as a professional in his/her craft/trade but also one who works while his/her primary objective is to be a learner (on the path of rigorous, specialist training).

Regardless whether al-Ṭūsī (or another presumed author) consciously omitted reference to examples implying the latter, the omission appears to function as a rule of thumb for learners (whose primary objective is to be specialists in their knowledge) that their time/energy should ideally be focused as much as possible on learning—even though other members of society are still expected to seek knowledge to some extent alongside pursuing their primary crafts/trades. This much has clearly become the norm gradually if not in al-Ṭūsī’s day, as evidenced by the contemporary model for financially supporting the pursuit of knowledge in ḥawza circles (i.e., where students and teachers alike are able to dedicate themselves to studies and other devotional activities full-time thanks to religiously administered housing options and stipends for living expenses).^[19] Thus, in the rendering of the treatise attributed to al-Ṭūsī, albeit subtly, the learner is steered away from seriously considering the feasibility of engaging in a craft/trade while pursuing specialist learning. This may speak to a shift in specialization norms promoted by al-Ṭūsī (and/or those circulating the ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn treatise) and, subsequently, a different formation program for the specialist-to-be.

Example three: Shīʿīfying vs. de-Sunnīfying

It may be tempting to assume that the author of ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn is ‘Shīʿīfying’ (making Shīʿī) al-Zarnūjī’s Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim when he removes reference to Sunnī scholars, for instance. It is arguably more accurate, however, to interpret that he is de-Sunnīfying it. Al-Ṭūsī apparently makes no reference to distinctly Shīʿī authorities throughout the treatise. Moreover, while al-Zarnūjī writes that ‘the people of what is right—and they are the Sunnīs (ahl al-sunna wa-l-jamāʿa)—asked for what is right from God Almighty, the clear Truth, the Guide, the Protector, and so God Almighty guided them and protected them from misguidance’,^[20] pseudo-al-Ṭūsī merely relays something similar to the statement directly preceding it: ‘[the learner should seek success and] guidance from God […], for indeed God Almighty guides the one who seeks [His] guidance’,^[21] and does not add anything particularly Shīʿī. This indicates that pseudo-al-Ṭūsī was writing the treatise for wide circulation, to be suitable for the formation of learner subjects across sectarian boundaries. In this model for reading the treatise, the author of ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn might as well have been a Sunnī author whose aim was to shape learners into aiming for being among ‘the people of what is right’, but without wishing for those learners to take it as a preconceived notion that one sectarian affiliation or another necessarily entailed that one was or was not among them. The emphasis of this reading is, then, in how the treatise(s) would be anticipated to function in their respective circles of circulation, not so much the actual intent of the authors or their sectarian identity.

Future Directions and Reflections

The so-called “age of confessional ambiguity” mentioned in the title of the article points to the arguable function of the treatise Ādāb al-Mutaʿalimīn in relation to Taʿlīm al-Mutaʿallim, as the article’s analysis shows. But a discussion of the broader narratives implied by that phrase has been intentionally postponed for future studies, which this article is bound to contribute to. Also forthcoming is an earlier compilation of learning etiquette in the history of Islamic ethics, mined from sources not labelled in the etiquette (ādāb/adab) genre.

Reflecting on this publication’s findings, the article takes a more descriptive/analytical approach, rather than prescribe a set of ethical norms and behaviors. But it is surely not meant to tolerate, let alone condone, centuries-old citation practices (or the lack thereof). Many of our modern sensibilities or laws have their own histories but are geared toward safeguarding the same rights/responsibilities humans have long appreciated intuitively (even if they did not express them in the same codified way). Differences in historical practices and communities, as with present ones, have contexts to be understood within.

We have our differences, perhaps for good reasons, but we also have a choice to make about which differences to create anew and which to (de)emphasize or resolve. We must look ourselves in the mirror and ask: Why am I highlighting this or not bringing attention to that? What function does this serve? Does this advance knowledge and, at least, gradually, even if only indirectly, bring about advancement? Does this make me a better person? Am I using this difference to justify evil? Am I leaving the world a bit better off than when I came into it? What legacy do I bequeath for posterity, for history and, indeed, eternity?

Ali Moughania

The article is available open-access through the Journal of Arabic and Islamic Studies (JAIS):

“Learning Etiquette History in an Age of Confessional Ambiguity: Two Islamic Learning Treatises?”. 2025. Journal of Arabic and Islamic Studies 25 (1): 89-107. https://doi.org/10.5617/jais.12442.

^[1] George Saliba, Islamic Science and the Making of the European Renaissance, Transformations: Studies in the History of Science and Technology (Cambridge, Massachusetts; London, England: MIT Press, 2007), 20-22, 193-196; George Saliba, “Whose Science Was Arabic Science in Renaissance France?,” 1999, https://www.columbia.edu/~gas1/project/visions/case1/sci.1.html.

^[2] Devin Stewart, “Notes on Zayn al-Dīn al-ʿĀmilī’s Munyat al-murīd fī ādāb al-mufīd wa-l-mustafīd”, Journal of Islamic Studies, 21.2 (2010): 235–70, 235.

^[3] Najam Iftikhar HAIDER, The Rebel and the Imām in Early Islam: Explorations in Muslim Historiography (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 2019), 1-25.

^[4] Ali Naji Moughania, “Paradigmatic Criteria of ‘Leadership’ in Islamic Thought: Subject-Formation at Sunnī, Shīʿī, and Ṣūfī Crossroads” (Ph.D. Dissertation, New York City, Columbia University, 2022), https://doi.org/10.7916/cj7p-w956.

^[5] ʿAlī b. al-Ḥusayn Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn al-Sajjād, al-Ṣaḥīfah al-Sajjādiyyah al-kāmilah, ed. Muḥammad Bāqir al-Ṣadr (d. 1980 CE), Beirut: Muʾassasat al-Aʿlamī lil-Maṭbūʿāt, n.d.: 127.

^[6] ʿAbd al-Zahrāʾ al-Ḥusaynī al-Khaṭīb, Maṣādir Nahj al-Balāghah wa Asānīduh, 4th ed., vol. 3, 4 vols. (Beirut: Dār al-Zahrāʾ, 1988), 204.

^[7] I presented the initial sketch of this working definition for the ḥawza, as I experienced it, at a virtual roundtable discussion for Columbia University’s Sharīʿa Workshop in 2020. A primer with a more thorough treatment is forthcoming.
Seyed Masoud Noori et al., “Roundtable Discussion: The Ḥawza and the Sharia” (Sharīʿa Workshop, Columbia University in the City of New York; Online, October 22, 2020).

^[8] See Ismāʿīl b. Ḥammād al-Jawharī (d. 393/1003), Tāj al-lugha wa-ṣiḥāḥ al-ʿarabiyya, ed. Aḥmad ʿAbd al-Ghafūr ʿAṭṭār; Cairo: Dār al-ʿIlm li-l-Malāyīn, 4th edn., 6 vols., 1987), iii. 875–6. Also consider section ‘6.3.5. The ḥawza’ of the EI³ article on ‘Education, General (up to 1500)’ (Sebastian Günther). For a discussion of technical definitions that have been proposed for al-ḥawza al-ʿilmiyya, or just ḥawza for short, see: ʿAlī Aḥmad al-Bahādlī, al-Ḥawza al-ʿilmiyya fī l-Najaf: maʿālimuhā wa-ḥarakātuhā al-ʾiṣlāḥiyyah, Beirut: Dār al-Zahrāʾ li-l-Ṭibāʿah wa-l-Nashr wa-l-Tawzīʿ, 1993: 86–94; ʿAdnān Farḥān Āl Qāsim, Tārīkh al-ḥawzāt al-ʿilmiyya wa-l-madāris al-dīniyyah ʿinda l-Shīʿa al-ʾimāmiyyah, 6 vols., 1^st edn. Beirut: Sharikat Dār al-Salām, 2016, i: 92–9. An additional four volumes are expected to be published. For more recent statements, consider, for instance:
ʿAlī Riḍā al-ʾAʿrāfī et al. [Conference Proceedings], in Muʾtamar al-Dhikrá al-Miʾawiyyah li-Iʿādat Taʾsīs al-Ḥawzah al-ʿIlmiyyah fī Qom (Muʾtamar al-Dhikrá al-Miʾawiyyah li-Iʿādat Taʾsīs al-Ḥawzah al-ʿIlmiyyah fī Qom, Qom: Wakālat Anbāʾ al-Ḥawzah, May 7-8, 2025), https://ar.hawzahnews.com/photo/372945/بالصور-مؤتمر-الذكرى-المئوية-لإعادة-تأسيس-الحوزة-العلمية-في-قم; al-Ḥawzah al-ʿIlmīyah: al-Taʾsīs wa al-Taʿrīf wa al-Mahāmm wa al-Niẓām, produced by Karbala TV Group, with Ḥusayn al-Ḥakīm, Najaf, 2025, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMERqctPYbs; Muḥammad ʿAlī Baḥr al-ʿUlūm, Ṣafaḥāt min Tārīkh al-Ḥawzah (Āl Baḥr al-ʿUlūm) | Podcast bi-Tawqīt al-Najaf, interview by Akram al-Murawwij, accessed May 22, 2025, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVzMaQpe4FI; Muḥammad Khazʿal al-Mālikī, Podcast Shiqshiqah | Ṭalab al-ʿilm fī al-Najaf, interview by Ahmad Seddiq أحمد صِدّيق, June 1, 2025, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ft3thIPUwlA.

^[9] For instance, consider Sebastian Günther, ‘“Your educational achievements shall not stop your efforts to seek beyond’: principles of teaching and learning in classical Arabic writings”, in Mujadad Zaman and Nadeem A. Memon (eds.), Philosophies of Islamic Education, New York: Routledge, 2016: 72–93.

[10] al-Ṭūsī, ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn, 55: فأردتُ أنْ اُبَينَ طريقَ التعلم، على سَبيل الاخْتِصارِ، على ما رَأيْتُ في الكُتّابِ وَسَمعتُ من أساتيذي اُولي العلم fa-ʾaradtu ʾan ʾubayyina ṭarīqa l-taʿallum, ʿalā sabīli l-ikhtiṣār, ʿalā mā raʾaytu fī l-kuttābi wa-samiʿtu min ʾasātīdhī ʾūlī l-ʿilm.

[11] Ibid., 58.

[12] Al-Zarnūjī, Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim, 32.

[13] Al-Zarnūjī refers the reader to a book on ethics (al-ʾakhlāq) by ‘the martyr Nāṣir al-Dīn Abū l-Qāsim’, saying that, ‘it is obligatory for every Muslim to memorize it [or preserve it] (ḥifẓuhā)’, while al-Ṭūsī merely asserts the general principle that it is obligatory to seek knowledge required to fulfill one’s religious responsibilities. The ‘Nāṣir al-Dīn Abū l-Qāsim’ that al-Zarnūjī refers to is likely the Ḥanafī jurist Muḥammad b. Yūsuf al-ʿAlawī al-Samarqandī (d. 556/1161), who authored Bayān riyāḍat ʾakhlāq al-nafs (abbreviated to ‘Riyāḍat al-ʾakhlāq’ or ‘al-ʾAkhlāq’; perhaps misread ‘al-ʾaḥqāq’ or ‘al-ʾikhfāq’). Al-Zarnūjī also refers the reader to Abū Ḥanīfa’s (d. 150/767) al-Waṣiyya, which he wrote to Yūsuf b. Khālid al-Samtī (d. 189/805). Al-Zarnūjī, Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim, 35, 45; al-Ṭūsī, ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn, 60.

^[14] Ibid., 92; al-Ṭūsī, ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn, 99: الحكمة ضالة المؤمن أينما وجدها أخذها al-ḥikmatu ḍāllatu l-muʾmini ʾaynamā wajadahā ʾakhadhahā.

^[15] al-Zarnūjī, Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim, 92; al-Ṭūsī, ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn, 99–100: خذ ما صفا ودع ما كدر khudh mā ṣafā wa-daʿ mā kadara.

^[16] al-Zarnūjī, Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim, 94: فبهذا يُعلمُ: أنَّ تحصيل العلم والفقه يجتمع مع الكسب. fa-bi-hādhā yuʿlamu: ʾanna taḥṣīla l-ʿilmi wa-l-fiqhi yajtamiʿu maʿa l-kasb.

^[17] al-Zarnūjī, Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim, 110; al-Ṭūsī, ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn, 100: وليس لصحيح البدن والعقل عذر في ترك التعلم. wa-laysa li-ṣaḥīḥi l-badani wa-l-ʿaqli ʿudhrun fī tarki l-taʿallum.

^[18] al-Zarnūjī, Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim, 99; al-Ṭūsī, ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn, 102: وكان في الزمان الأول يتعلمون الحرفة ثم يتعلمون العلم، حتّى لا يطمعوا في أموال الناس. wa-kāna fī l-zamāni l-ʾawwali yataʿallamūna l-ḥirfata thumma yataʿallamūna l-ʿilm, ḥattā lā yaṭmaʿū fī ʾamwāli l-nās.

^[19] This contemporary observation from within the Shīʿī tradition’s ḥawza circles also makes it less likely that al-Ṭūsī (or another presumed author) was relying on the teacher explaining the text to include examples encouraging students to divide their time between work and studies.

^[20] al-Zarnūjī, Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim, 95: طلبوا الحق من الله تعالى، الحق المبين الهادي، العاصم، فهداهم الله تعالى، وعصمهم عن الضلالة ṭalabū l-ḥaqqa min-a llāhi taʿālā, al-ḥaqq l-mubīn l-hādī, al-ʿāṣim, fa-hadāhum-u llāhu taʿālā, wa-ʿaṣamahum ʿan-i l-ḍalālah.

^[21] al-Zarnūjī, Taʿlīm al-mutaʿallim, 95; al-Ṭūsī, ʾĀdāb al-mutaʿallimīn, 100: ويطلب من الله التوفيق والهداية، فإن الله تعالى هادٍ لمن استهداه wa-yaṭluba min-a llāhi l-tawfīqa wa-l-hidāyah, fa-inna llāha taʿālā hādin li-man-i stahdāh.