Yu In-seok (柳麟錫, January 25, 1842 – January 29, 1915)** was a Confucian scholar, philosopher, and militia leader during the late Joseon Dynasty and the Korean Empire. His family origin was Goheung, and his courtesy name was Yeoseong (汝聖), with his pen name being Uiam (毅庵). Born in Chuncheon, Gangwon Province, he was a disciple of renowned scholars such as Hwaseo Yi Hang-ro, Jungam Kim Pyeong-muk, and Seongjae Ryu Jung-gyo. Yu began his militia activities in 1864, and from 1895, he led nationwide resistance movements. After 1897, he traveled abroad, working to advance domestic military operations.
Yu was recognized as the head of the Hwaseo School and a key leader in the militia movements. In 1895, following the assassination of Queen Myeongseong and the implementation of the topknot-cutting order, he raised a militia and fought against government troops and Japanese forces in regions such as Chungju and Jecheon. Though his forces were defeated, he continued his resistance activities, moving between Manchuria and Liaodong, even attempting to secure military support from China.
In 1905, after the signing of the Eulsa Treaty, he once again organized a militia and led anti-Japanese campaigns. In 1908, he fled to the Russian Far East, where he collaborated with leaders like Yi Sang-seol and Choi Jae-hyeong to plan military operations in Korea, although these efforts ultimately failed. Even after Korea was annexed by Japan in 1910, Yu continued his fight for national sovereignty until his death in Manchuria. Yu strongly opposed Western ideas of equality and freedom, viewing them as sources of disorder and conflict, and emphasized maintaining traditional social order.
In recognition of his contributions, the South Korean government posthumously awarded him the Order of Merit for National Foundation (Presidential Medal) in 1962.
Translation:
To Master Myeonam, from Yu In-seok, with humble obeisance
I, In-seok, respectfully bow and address Master Myeonam’s household.
While lying ill in the mountains of Gajeong-ri, someone brought me a copy of the so-called newspaper. It says that the Japanese are planning to send Your Excellency to Tsushima Island, and several other distinguished figures will also be taken along. Is there any greater calamity in heaven and earth throughout history?
However, I am filled with indignation for the nation’s affairs and not the least bit worried or saddened for Your Excellency. My frustration for the nation’s plight has stifled my spirit, leaving me at a loss for words. Your Excellency, when you first called for resistance during the Byeongja War, you truly did not concern yourself with life or death. Afterward, you repeatedly submitted petitions, and now you have raised the banner of righteousness. How could you concern yourself with life and death while condemning the crimes of the barbarian Japanese and the government? It is thrilling, truly thrilling! Your righteous and upright spirit pierces the universe and competes with the brilliance of the sun and moon. This is yet another instance of disregarding life and death. How, then, could I be alarmed or heartbroken for Your Excellency?
Some have said that when Your Excellency returned home after being captured by the Japanese years ago, you missed an opportunity to die then, and that now, faced with inevitable humiliation, you may choose to take your own life. However, this is not true. Years ago, death may have been the right choice, but now, after facing countless hardships, it only strengthens our resolve in righteousness, bringing us to the ultimate end. How can one choose death when endurance is still possible? If you choose death, it could be said that you have preserved your integrity, but people will say that you lacked the stature of a great man. This is the answer to such thinking.
If Your Excellency is taken to that land and ultimately faces harm, your radiance will shine even brighter, and not only the three scholars (referring to the loyal martyrs of the Joseon dynasty) will monopolize honor. Should you return to Joseon unharmed, having avoided disaster, your virtue will not be solitary but will stand alongside that of Cheong-eum Kim Sang-heon. How, then, could I be distressed or alarmed by petty words in this situation?
Due to my illness, I could not join when the banners were raised, nor could I bid farewell on the day you left Joseon. How could this be considered proper or righteous? I am ashamed and distressed, and my heart is troubled. I earnestly pray to the spirits thousands of times, imploring them to protect Your Excellency in the midst of the treacherous seas and foreign lands. I also ask those who follow you to carefully study the routes and geography of Tsushima, so that when the time comes, with the strength of the “Three Families” (a reference to the idiom “楚雖三戶 亡秦必楚,” meaning even if only three families of Chu remain, they will be the ones to destroy Qin), we may rise and run to Tsushima and use it as a means to strike Japan. Aside from this, I have no other important matters to report. The hearts of those who were captured alongside you are no different from yours, and their sincerity toward you is the same as mine.
I can do nothing now but continue to guard the portraits of the seven sages—Confucius, Master Yan, Zengzi, Zisi, Mencius, Chengzi, and Zhuzi—alongside fellow scholars and offer them in righteousness to heaven. As soon as you see this letter, please have the Kansai native, Lee Jin-gyeong, swiftly bring it to you. Whether the offering of the portraits will be swift or slow remains to be seen.
With deepest respect,
In-seok humbly addresses Your Excellency.
