Courage ought to have eyes as well as arms.

In his timeless saying, Henry George Bohn declared, “Courage ought to have eyes as well as arms.” This simple yet profound truth holds the essence of wisdom — that bravery, to be noble and effective, must be guided by wisdom and vision. For courage without sight is like a mighty warrior who charges into darkness, strong in arm but blind in purpose. True courage does not rush blindly into danger; it sees clearly, discerns rightly, and then acts with strength. It is not the recklessness of impulse, but the harmony of heart and understanding, valor and prudence.

In the ages past, men often confused boldness with bravery, mistaking noise for strength. But Bohn, a scholar and collector of human thought, spoke as one who had studied the long history of human triumph and folly. His words remind us that courage is not merely the power to act, but the wisdom to know when and why to act. To have “eyes” is to possess insight — to see beyond passion, to foresee the consequences of one’s actions. To have “arms” is to possess the strength and will to carry them out. One without the other leads to ruin: wisdom without courage breeds hesitation, and courage without wisdom breeds disaster.

Consider the story of Alexander the Great, a man of boundless courage whose arms conquered nations. Yet even he, at the height of his triumph, faced ruin when his eyes — his judgment — grew clouded by pride. When he marched into the endless deserts of India, his men fell from thirst and exhaustion. Their valor remained, but their cause had lost its light. His courage, though immense, had turned blind. Had he tempered his might with foresight, his empire might have endured beyond his fleeting youth. Thus we see: blind courage destroys what it seeks to protect, while wise courage preserves and uplifts.

And yet, let us also remember the story of Joan of Arc, the peasant girl who heard the call of destiny in a world of war. She possessed both the arms of courage and the eyes of divine purpose. Though mocked by kings and hunted by fear, she moved with clarity of spirit, knowing that true bravery serves a vision greater than oneself. Her courage did not arise from rage or defiance, but from a pure and knowing heart. Even as the flames rose around her, she stood with calm eyes upon eternity. She proved that the noblest courage is not in conquering others, but in standing steadfast in truth.

Thus, Bohn’s wisdom is a warning to all generations: do not mistake recklessness for bravery. The fool leaps because he cannot see; the brave man steps forward because he has looked, and yet decides to act. In every age — from the battlefield to the council hall, from the classroom to the heart — the world needs those who wield both sight and strength. For the challenges of life demand not only the power to endure, but the clarity to discern right from wrong, truth from illusion, love from pride.

The lesson for us is clear: train both your eyes and your arms. Seek knowledge before action, reflection before resistance. Let your mind be the lantern that lights your courage. When anger tempts you to fight, pause and look deeply — see whether your battle is just. When fear tells you to run, open your eyes wider — see whether the danger is real or merely imagined. Only then act, and act with your whole being. For courage that sees is unstoppable; courage that is blind is its own enemy.

So, my child, when you rise to face your trials, do so not as the wild beast that charges without aim, but as the eagle that soars with vision and strength united. Let your eyes be the wisdom of truth, your arms the instruments of righteousness. Remember always: the bravest heart is not the one that beats the loudest, but the one that sees clearly and still dares to move forward. Such is the courage that builds nations, redeems souls, and lights the path for all who follow.