For a man to strike any women is most brutal, and I, as well as

The words of Queen Victoria, "For a man to strike any woman is most brutal, and I, as well as everyone else, think this far worse than any attempt to shoot, which, wicked as it is, is at least more comprehensible and more courageous," resound as a cry from the throne to the conscience of all generations. In them is a declaration that the hand raised in violence against the weaker is the vilest form of cowardice, a deed not born of strength, but of depravity. For even in the chaos of war and the madness of assassination, there lies a twisted form of honor, but in the striking of a woman, there is none.

This truth is as old as time. In the sagas of ancient Greece, heroes were judged not only by the foes they slew, but by the reverence with which they treated those who bore life. When Hector bade farewell to Andromache, he did not raise his hand in cruelty, but shielded her with his love, though he went forth to meet death. The warrior’s honor was measured in battle, never in the domination of the defenseless. To strike a woman would have been a stain darker than defeat.

Consider, too, the chivalric code of the Middle Ages, which, though flawed, proclaimed one noble truth: that knights must protect the weak and uphold the dignity of women. Though many failed in practice, the very existence of such a code reveals that humanity has long known this: the measure of a man is not in his might, but in the way he wields his strength. To use it against those with less power is to forfeit all claim to honor.

Queen Victoria’s words come not merely from a monarch, but from one who saw the turbulence of her age—assassination attempts upon her very life. And yet she judged that the dagger or the bullet, though wicked, bore at least the shadow of courage, for they risked the assailant’s life. But the hand that beats a woman risks nothing but reveals everything—that within it lies not valor, but rot.

Let this teaching be carried as fire to the generations that follow: that the true courage of a man is not shown in his power to wound, but in his power to restrain, to protect, and to honor. He who strikes the defenseless is the lowest of cowards, and his name will be spat upon in the memory of the just. But he who lifts others up, who defends rather than destroys, will be remembered as a guardian of dignity, as one who bore the true weight of manhood with honor.