Dates: c. AD 200 · Wikipedia
Summary: Inspiration kept, the cells dropped. In the Stromata, arguing that the Greek
philosophers borrowed from Moses, Clement reports the Septuagint as itself an inspired work: the people of Jerusalem
sent "seventy elders" who, when their separately-made drafts were "compared together," "agreed both in meaning and
expression," for the God "who gave the prophecy" also "produced the translation, and made it as it were Greek
prophecy." He keeps the inspiration claim and the Esdras parallel that Irenaeus had
introduced, but drops Irenaeus's separate-cells device — his translators reach their agreement by
comparison, not by isolation. He counts "seventy," not seventy-two, and is openly unsure which Ptolemy commissioned
the work.
"It is said that the Scriptures both of the law and of the prophets were translated from the dialect of the Hebrews into the Greek language in the reign of Ptolemy the son of Lagos, or, according to others, of Ptolemy surnamed Philadelphus; Demetrius Phalereus bringing to this task the greatest earnestness… the king being ambitious of adorning the library he had at Alexandria with all writings, desired the people of Jerusalem to translate the prophecies they possessed into the Greek dialect. And they being the subjects of the Macedonians, selected from those of highest character among them seventy elders, versed in the Scriptures, and skilled in the Greek dialect, and sent them to him with the divine books. And each having severally translated each prophetic book, and all the translations being compared together, they agreed both in meaning and expression. For it was the counsel of God carried out for the benefit of Grecian ears. It was not alien to the inspiration of God, who gave the prophecy, also to produce the translation, and make it as it were Greek prophecy."
— Stromata I.22, source. Clement stands between his two nearest predecessors on the timeline. With Irenaeus (c. AD 175) he affirms the translation is inspired — not a feat of human skill but God reproducing his own prophecy in Greek; against Tertullian (c. AD 197), who had retold the story a few years earlier as a bare royal commission with no miracle at all, Clement restores the inspiration claim. But he does not reproduce Irenaeus's distinctive proof-mechanism: there are no "little cells," no elders "separated from each other" so that their unforeseeable identical drafts would compel belief. In Clement the translators each render the books and then their versions are "compared together," and the agreement is the marvel. The wonder is asserted; the device that dramatizes it is absent.
"Since the Scriptures having perished in the captivity of Nebuchadnezzar, Esdras the Levite, the priest, in the time of Artaxerxes king of the Persians, having become inspired in the exercise of prophecy restored again the whole of the ancient Scriptures."
— Stromata I.22, source. This is the same brace Irenaeus had used: the inspired Greek translation is no harder for God than the inspired restoration of the lost Hebrew by Esdras after the exile. Clement takes the pairing over from Irenaeus almost intact — a sign he is working in the same line of Christian argument, in which the LXX's authority rests on the Spirit's guidance and is defended by appeal to an earlier act of inspired transmission. (Clement caps the chapter by quoting Aristobulus "in his first book addressed to Philometor" and Numenius's tag that Plato is "Moses speaking in Attic Greek" — the borrowing-from-Moses thesis the whole retelling serves.)