When Michel de Montaigne wrote about coaches, he was really writing about the human condition. In his essay On Coaches, he wove seemingly trivial observations about travel and movement into profound philosophical questions. Which thinkers whispered in his ear? Which traditions shaped his views on outward display, human frailty, and the relative value of civilizations? This article explores the intellectual soil from which this surprising essay grew — and why its themes still resonate deeply with Freemasons today.
The Skeptical Legacy: Doubt as Method
Montaigne wrote from within a tradition that questioned certainty itself. Pyrrhonian skepticism — named after the Greek philosopher Pyrrho of Elis — taught that definitive knowledge lies beyond human reach. This posture saturates the essay on coaches. Where others pronounce firm judgments on civilizations and customs, Montaigne suspends his. He describes how European conquerors invaded the New World cloaked in a delusion of superiority, then quietly asks: who actually gets to decide what is civilized?
The skeptical method allowed Montaigne to see the coach not merely as a vehicle, but as a symbol of human vanity. He doubted the value people attached to outward show. This doubt was not cynicism — it was an invitation to look deeper. A Freemason may well recognize here the charge to look beyond the surface, to seek the essential behind the visible. In the lodge, as in Montaigne’s essays, appearances are never the final word.
Seneca and the Stoic Undertone
Although Montaigne was no strict Stoic, he drew richly from the works of Seneca. The Roman philosopher had written extensively about the relationship between inner tranquility and outward circumstances. In On Coaches, this Stoic undertone resonates clearly when Montaigne reflects on his own physical weaknesses during travel. He suffered from seasickness and motion sickness, but rather than hiding these frailties, he turned them into a philosophical point.
The coach reveals not our progress, but our need to mask weakness with splendor and spectacle.
Seneca taught that true greatness does not reside in outward display. Montaigne applied this lesson to the lavish carriages of his own era: they concealed the vulnerability of their passengers behind gilded panels. A builder of a temple knows that the foundations matter more than the façade. In the same way, Montaigne understood that character weighs far more than the coach in which one is carried through the world.
Plutarch as Guide Through Antiquity
No author influenced Montaigne as broadly as Plutarch. The Greek biographer and moralist offered a treasury of stories about rulers, generals, and sages. In the essay on coaches, Montaigne references the extravagance of Roman emperors alongside the simplicity of certain rulers. These comparisons were largely drawn from Plutarch’s Lives and Moralia.
Plutarch demonstrated that greatness and simplicity often walk hand in hand. Alexander the Great rode on horseback, not in a gilded litter. Montaigne used such examples to hold a mirror up to his contemporaries. The Renaissance man who allowed himself to be carried in ever more luxurious coaches was perhaps forgetting the very virtues that define true greatness. For those familiar with Masonic ideals, the emphasis here on inner development over outward display will feel immediately recognizable.
Renaissance Humanism: Man as the Measure
Montaigne wrote in an age that placed humanity at the center of inquiry. Renaissance humanism rediscovered classical antiquity and foregrounded human dignity, reason, and creativity. At the same time, the discovery of the Americas sent shockwaves through European certainties. Entire civilizations existed with different customs, values, and worldviews — and suddenly, the old assumptions no longer held.
In On Coaches, Montaigne confronts his readers with this discovery. He describes the Aztecs and Incas not as barbarians, but as peoples with their own forms of grandeur. Their temples, their rituals, their courage in the face of the Spanish conquerors — Montaigne admired it all with genuine sincerity. This cultural relativism was revolutionary for its time. It posed a discomforting question: are we truly more civilized simply because we have coaches?
Two Perspectives: The Coach as Symbol
Consider two gazes placed side by side. The first belongs to the sixteenth-century European nobleman. For him, the coach was a status symbol — proof of wealth and refinement. The richer the upholstery, the greater the honor. The coach separated him, literally and figuratively, from ordinary people. He looked down from his carriage upon those who traveled on foot.
The second gaze belongs to Montaigne himself, shaped by his philosophical sources. He saw in the coach a magnification of human vanity. The movement of the carriage made him nauseous, and that very physical reaction became a metaphor. The coach, designed to impress, simultaneously revealed vulnerability. Montaigne chose honesty about his own weaknesses rather than concealment through display.
What Both Perspectives Share
Despite their differences, both gazes shared a fascination with movement. The nobleman wanted to move forward, upward, away from the masses. Montaigne also wanted to move forward — but toward self-knowledge. Both acknowledged, each in their own way, that human beings move through the world and, in doing so, make choices about how they wish to be seen.
The philosophical foundations of Montaigne’s essay can be distilled into four streams of influence. Pyrrho of Elis contributed the art of suspended judgment. Seneca offered the principle that inner peace outweighs outward display. Plutarch provided comparison as a moral mirror. And Renaissance humanism brought a genuine curiosity about other civilizations and ways of being.
The Freemason who reads this essay will find familiar themes at every turn. The emphasis on self-examination, the warning against false display, the openness toward other cultures — these are principles cherished in the lodge. Montaigne did not build a cathedral of stone, but he built one of thought. His foundations were laid by skeptics, Stoics, and humanists. His building blocks were honesty and wonder.
Montaigne’s essay On Coaches remains a powerful reminder that the vehicles we use to present ourselves to the world — whether literal coaches or metaphorical ones — say far more about our insecurities than our achievements. By drawing on the philosophical traditions of skepticism, Stoicism, and humanism, Montaigne invites us to examine ourselves with unflinching honesty. For Freemasons and seekers of truth alike, the lesson endures: true greatness is never measured by the grandeur of the carriage, but by the character of the one who rides within it.
Copyright text & image: devrijmetselaar.nl
Texts are based on the ideas and content of the author of devrijmetselaar.nl, reviewed, corrected, and supplemented with the assistance of OpenAI. Images are created based on the ideas of the author of devrijmetselaar.nl using OpenAI/DALL-E.
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