# Searchlights on Health/Forms of Love Letters

FORMS OF LOVE LETTERS.
12.—An Ardent Declaration.
Naperville, Ill., June 10th, 1915
 My Dearest Laura:
 I can no longer restrain myself from writing to you, dearest  and best of girls, what I have often been on the point of  saying to you. I love you so much that I cannot find words in  which to express my feelings. I have loved you from the very  first day we met, and always shall. Do you blame me because I  write so freely? I should be unworthy of you if I did not tell  you the whole truth. Oh, Laura, can you love me in return?  I am sure I shall not be able to bear it if your answer is  unfavorable. I will study your every wish if you will give  me the right to do so. May I hope? Send just one kind word to  your sincere friend.
 HARRY SMITH.
13.—A Lover's Good-bye Before Starting on a Journey.
Pearl St., New York, March 11th, 1894.
 My Dearest Nellie: I am off to-morrow, and yet not altogether,  for I leave my heart behind in your gentle keeping. You need  not place a guard over it, however, for it is as impossible  that it should stay away, as for a bit of steel to rush from a  magnet. The simile is eminently correct for you, my dear girl,  are a magnet, and my heart is as true to you as steel. I shall  make my absence as brief as possible. Not a day, not an hour,  not a minute, shall I waste either in going or returning. Oh,  this business; but I wont complain, for we must have something  for our hive besides honey—something that rhymes with it—and  that we must have it, I must bestir myself. You will find me  a faithful correspondent. Like the spider, I shall drop a line  by (almost) every post; and mind, you must give me letter for  letter. I can't give you credit. Your returns must be prompt  and punctual.
 Passionately yours,  LEWIS SHUMAN.
 To Miss Nellie Carter,  No. — Fifth Avenue, New York.
14.—From an Absent Lover.
Chicago, Ill., Sept. 10, 1915
 My Dearest Kate: This sheet of paper, though I should cover  it with loving words, could never tell you truly how I long  to see you again. Time does not run on with me now at the  same pace as with other people; the hours seem days, the days  weeks, while I am absent from you, and I have no faith in the  accuracy of clocks and almanacs. Ah! if there were truth in  clairvoyance, wouldn't I be with you at this moment! I wonder  if you are as impatient to see me as I am to fly to you?  Sometimes it seems as if I must leave business and every  thing else to the Fates, and take the first train to Dawson.  However, the hours do move, though they don't appear to, and  in a few more weeks we shall meet again. Let me hear from you  as frequently as possible in the meantime. Tell me of your  health, your amusements and your affections.
 Remember that every word you write will be a comfort to me.
 Unchangeably yours,  WILLIAM MILLER.
 To Miss Kate Martin,  Dawson, N.D.
15.—A Declaration of Love at First Sight.
Waterford, Maine, May 8th, 1915
 Dear Miss Searles:
 Although I have been in your society but once the impression  you have made upon me is so deep and powerful that I cannot  forbear writing to you, in defiance of all rules of etiquette.  Affection is sometimes of slow growth but sometimes it springs  up in a moment. In half an hour after I was introduced to you  my heart was no longer my own, I have not the assurance  to suppose that I have been fortunate enough to create any  interest in yours; but will you allow me to cultivate your  acquaintance in the hope or being able to win your regard in  the course of time? Petitioning for a few lines in reply.
 I remain, dear Miss Searles,  Yours devotedly,  E.C. NICKS.
 Miss E. Searles,  Waterford, Maine.
16.—Proposing Marriage.
Wednesday, October 20th, 1894
 Dearest Etta:
 The delightful hours I have passed in your society have left  an impression on my mind that is altogether indelible,  and cannot be effaced even by time itself. The frequent  opportunities I have possessed, of observing the thousand acts  of amiability and kindness which mark the daily tenor of your  life, have ripened my feelings of affectionate regard into  a passion at once ardent and sincere until I have at length  associated my hopes of future happiness with the idea of you  as a life partner, in them. Believe me, dearest Etta, this is  no puerile fancy, but the matured results of a long and warmly  cherished admiration of your many charms of person and mind.  It is love—pure devoted love, and I feel confident that your  knowledge of my character will lead you to ascribe my motives  to their true source.
 May I then implore you to consult your own heart, and should  this avowal of my fervent and honorable passion for you  be crowned with your acceptance and approval, to grant me  permission to refer the matter to your parents. Anxiously  awaiting your answer,
 I am, dearest Etta,  Your sincere and faithful lover,  GEO. COURTRIGHT.
 To Miss Etta Jay,  Malden, Ill.
17.—From a Gentleman to a Widow.
Philadelphia, May 10th, 1915
 My Dear Mrs. Freeman:
 I am sure you are too clear-sighted not to have observed the  profound impression which your amiable qualities, intelligence  and personal attractions have made upon my heart, and as you  nave not repelled my attentions nor manifested displeasure  when I ventured to hint at the deep interest I felt in your  welfare and happiness, I cannot help hoping that you will  receive an explicit expression of my attachments, kindly and  favorably. I wish it were in my power to clothe the feelings  I entertain for you in such words as should make my pleadings  irresistible; but, after all, what could I say, more than you  are very dear to me, and that the most earnest desire of my  soul is to have the privilege of calling you my wife? Do  you, can you love me? You will not, I am certain, keep me in  suspense, for you are too good and kind to trifle for a moment  with sincerity like mine. Awaiting your answer,
 I remain with respectful affection,  Ever yours,  HENRY MURRAY.
 Mrs. Julia Freeman,  Philadelphia.
18.—From a Lady to an Inconstant Lover.
Dear Harry:
 It is with great reluctance that I enter upon a subject which  has given me great pain, and upon which silence has become  impossible if I would preserve my self-respects. You cannot  but be aware that I have just reason for saying that you have  much displeased me. You have apparently forgotten what is due  to me, circumstanced as we are, thus far at least. You cannot  suppose that I can tamely see you disregard my feelings, by  conduct toward other ladies from which I should naturally  have the right to expect you to abstain. I am not so vulgar a  person as to be jealous. When there is cause to infer changed  feelings, or unfaithfulness to promises of constancy, jealousy  is not the remedy. What the remedy is I need not say—we both  of us have it in our hands. I am sure you will agree with me  that we must come to some understanding by which the future  shall be governed. Neither you nor I can bear a divided  allegiance. Believe me that I write more in sorrow than  in anger. You have made me very unhappy, and perhaps  thoughtlessly. But it will take much to reassure me of your  unaltered regard.
 Yours truly,  EMMA.