The foregoing discussion has restricted itself to cases where the ancient historians deal with a character or personality that is essentially static. This, however, begs a question. Does ancient historiography ever entertain the notion that a person’s character can change or develop? And if it does, how does it cope with this possibility?
It has on occasion been stated that ancient literature in general has no concept of character development or change (Wilamowitz 1907: 1109-1110). A fortiori, one would therefore expect such a possibility to be absent from the pages of classical historiography as well. The doctrine is, however, quite wrong. Consider, for example, this extract from Appian’s Macedonica, in which the narrator discusses the behavior of Perseus (Mac. 16):
He killed without measure or restraint, and from this point he immediately changed into being savage and hateful towards everyone, and there was no longer anything sound-minded or rational in him, but the man who had been most persuasive in the cause of good sense and sharp in reasoning and most brave in battle... then turned completely and inexplicably to cowardice and foolishness, and became skittish and fickle and maladroit towards all, as his good fortune began to run out. This can be seen in many: that as their fortunes change, they become shadows of themselves.
The last clause (which might more literally be rendered ‘‘become more foolish than themselves’’) might be taken as indicating a residual notion of a ‘‘true self’’ from which the current state is an unhappy declension. Nonetheless, the general thrust of this passage is clear. Appian’s narrator states clearly that Perseus’ character did change, and for the worse. Other examples may be multiplied (Gill 1983: 481-487).
On the whole, it is true that the notion of character change or development is not often encountered in the ancient historians. Passages such as the one from Appian quoted above are the exception rather than the rule. Nonetheless, the Appianic extract should serve as a salutary reminder that ancient historiography, rather than contenting itself with a bland doctrine that people are what they are, and that is that, does engage with the conundrum of individuals who indulge in behavior seemingly inconsistent with other apparent aspects of their character. It does so, moreover, in a number of interesting ways.
Character change is only one possible explanation for such a problem. A more favored explanation is that certain aspects of the individual’s character which had always been there already, but had formerly been concealed, came out into the open at a particular point. The most celebrated instance of this reasoning is that applied to Tacitus’ Tiberius, which we have already quoted in another context (p. 110): ‘‘many indications of his savagery, although they were suppressed, burst forth’’ (Tac. Ann. 1.5). Revelation of hidden tendencies is not the whole story here (Woodman 1998: 155-167), but it is an important part. Such an analysis not infrequently identifies a particular external stimulus as prompting the requisite revelation. Once more, Tacitus provides a good example of this, in the form of the speculation that the reprehensible behavior of Antonius Primus might have come about because ‘‘success revealed in that sort of character greed and arrogance and other hidden evils’’ (Hist. 3.49).
This notion of ‘‘external stimulus’’ is an important one. In the ancient historians, the interaction between what might perhaps be described as an individual’s ‘‘root tendencies,’’ the impact of particular ideas or emotions, and changing external factors is often presented with considerable sophistication. The interaction can take many forms.
An individual or particular group may, for example, have characteristics that are determined or reinforced by their native environment, a notion particularly associated with Herodotus (1.71, only one amongst many examples), but which persists in the later tradition: witness Caesar’s linkage (BG 1.1.3) between the valor of the Belgae and their inaccessibility and lack of communication with merchants. An individual’s behavior may demonstrate the force of a particular notion or impulse operating upon his or her own deep-seated characteristics: thus, Tacitus can say (Hist. 4.55) of foolish behavior on the part of Julius Sabinus that ‘‘the glory attaching to a false lineage was spurring on his innate vanity.’’ Innate characteristics may be reinforced, or overridden, by the intervention of others: so Vitellius becomes ‘‘more arrogant and cruel’’ on the arrival of his brother, while Flavius Sabinus’ characteristic mildness is overriden by his equally characteristic tractability and the influence of L. Vitellius’ wife (Hist. 2.63). Polybius, with his customary methodological exactitude, announces plainly his intention to grapple at length with the question of what turned the talented Philip V into a despicable tyrant (4.77.4); this promise the historian subsequently makes good with his nice discrimination between the elements of Philip’s character that were inborn, part of his phusis, and those which the king developed as he aged: ‘‘it seems to me that his good aspects were a part of his nature, whereas his bad came upon him with his advancing years, as happens to some horses when they get old’’ (Pol. 10.26.8; cf. also Walbank 1972: 92-96).
Character, then, rarely manifests as a monolithic fixity in the ancient historians. The interplay between tendency, impulse, and environment is not something which they invariably sidestep. Rather, it is delineated with subtlety, grace, and perception.