Dates: c. 397 (the Diversarum Hereseon Liber, compiled c. 380–390) · Wikipedia
Summary: Philastrius, bishop of Brescia, compiled the first Latin catalogue of heresies, the
Diversarum Hereseon Liber (Book of Diverse Heresies). In it he carries the Aquila-versus-Septuagint
dispute into the Western church and makes rejection of the Seventy itself a heresy: he brands as heretics those "who
like the Jews spit out the translation of the Seventy-Two… and prefer to use the text of a certain Aquila, a man
of Pontus." The authority he sets against Aquila is the inspiration legend in its strong form — the seventy-two sealed
in separate cells under Ptolemy, their versions found to "agree completely." He names no doctored verse and charges no
rabbinic excision of the Hebrew; he is the witness that, in the late-fourth-century Latin West, preferring Aquila to the
Septuagint had become a mark of heresy — the Western echo of Epiphanius's
Greek charge.1
"There are heretics who like the Jews spit out the translation of the Seventy-Two saintly and wise men, and prefer to use the text of a certain Aquila, a man of Pontus, who spent many years producing (his version)…"
— Philastrius, Diversarum Hereseon Liber, trans. in Wasserstein, The Legend of the Septuagint. Philastrius's catalogue treats any deviation from received truth — doctrinal, moral, or scriptural — as a heresis, and here the deviation is textual: to set aside the Septuagint in favour of the hyper-literal Greek of Aquila (the second-century proselyte, "a man of Pontus") is to side "like the Jews" against the church's Bible. Where Epiphanius (c. 392) charged Aquila personally with distorting the words of the Seventy out of spite, Philastrius widens the indictment to Aquila's readers: preferring his version is the heresy. (The Latin passage at this point gave examples of the divergences between the two Greek versions, abridged in the surviving citation.)
"But this, that is to say the translation of the Seventy-Two, was published for all under Ptolemy who ruled the Egyptians after Alexander of Macedon… When the Seventy-Two wise and sage translators came, in accordance with the command of the king they translated the Hebrew language into Greek speech and published it in Greek letters. Now when the king Ptolemy had received these men at the start, wanting to find out whether what the Jews read was of divine authorship, he ordered that each of them be secluded in a cell and see no one else except for a secretary who would take down his translation by dictation. Then taking the versions of all of them every day, he found that the versions of all of them agreed completely, and he ordered that (a copy) be made and placed in the temple."
— Philastrius, Diversarum Hereseon Liber, trans. in Wasserstein, The Legend of the Septuagint. The ground on which rejecting the Seventy counts as heresy is the inspiration legend: Ptolemy tests "whether what the Jews read was of divine authorship," shuts the translators in separate cells, and finds their independent versions "agree completely" — the divinely-guaranteed, word-for-word identical Greek. Against a text vouched for by that miracle, a rival rendering like Aquila's is not merely a worse translation but an impiety. The legend itself, and its growth across the centuries, belongs to the companion doctrine, the Origin and Inspiration of the Septuagint; here it functions as the warrant for the heresy-charge.
Philastrius of Brescia, Diversarum Hereseon Liber (Book of Diverse Heresies, compiled c. 380–390), English in Abraham & David J. Wasserstein, The Legend of the Septuagint: From Classical Antiquity to Today (Cambridge, 2006): "There are heretics who like the Jews spit out the translation of the Seventy-Two saintly and wise men, and prefer to use the text of a certain Aquila, a man of Pontus…"; and the origin legend — Ptolemy, "wanting to find out whether what the Jews read was of divine authorship, he ordered that each of them be secluded in a cell… he found that the versions of all of them agreed completely." ↩