At its heart—pun intended—Valentine’s Day is about letting loved ones know you care about them.  The words of famous besotted correspondents fill our shelves—the Rare Book Division alone holds printed copies of love letters from Henry VIII, John Keats, and Mary, Queen of Scots (assuming those casket letters weren’t forged).  But if these doomed affairs don’t quite inspire you to set pen to page, perhaps you should try another source—our universal letter-writers.

Universal letter-writers were guidebooks meant to teach young men and women the art of writing and speaking fluently on a variety of subjects.  The bulk of the texts are model letters, organized by theme and supplemented with guides to grammar, spelling, pronunciation, and style, as well as how to write cards of compliment or address the President of the United States (“His Excellency the President of the United States,” if you’re curious).  The Rare Book Division’s copies were printed in the early nineteenth century, but later versions can be found in the library’s other collections.

The model letters offer guidance on a bewildering array of subjects, from “To an Acquaintance to borrow a Sum of Money for a little time” to “From a Daughter to her Mother by way of Excuse for having neglected to write her” (I think I have a few drafts of that one myself) and even “From a Lady to her Friend, whose lover had basely left her and married another.”  Some of them retain their original names—an 1800 edition notes that “several of the letters are taken from approved American writers”—while the sources for others remain anonymous.  As I read these, I picture the early American version of Joaquin Phoenix in Spike Jonze’s Her, crafting heartfelt letters for strangers on commission.  Letters on courtship and marriage are well-represented.

If it feels contrary to the nature of love letters to follow a template, the letter-writer compilers anticipated that reaction.  “It would be easy to fill a very large volume with the letters of lovers without illustrating the topic of love: because every difference of circumstances and situation, however slight, makes a very material one in the commencement, progress, and effects of the passion,” says an 1810 edition.  It continues with a scathing yet humorous indictment of the idea of writing love letters at all:  “The letters of lovers are said to be agreeable to themselves alone; this observation is in some degree true, for the explanation of passion begins in egotism, proceeds in complaint, crimination, exculpation and compliment, and ends if fortunately, in self-gratulation, if otherwise, in self-defence.  Lovers, in general, injure their cause in the eyes of the prudent by unlimited protestations, extravagant exaggerations, and absurd hyperboles; things unpardonable in any person of moderate judgment, and which must proceed either from folly or a wish to deceive.”

If, despite these criticisms, you choose to soldier on with your words of endearment, our universal letter-writers have inspiration for seemingly any situation.  Here are some personal favorites of mine, with suggestions of the literary couples who might have needed them.  If they strike your fancy, be sure to explore one of the library’s print or digital copies!

“From a Wit to his Mistress” (1810), a.k.a. the Rodolphe Boulanger - Emma Bovary Letter

“I take the liberty of assuring you that you must either pull out your eyes, or I must pull out mine—that’s a fact.  You must either not be so handsome, or I must be blind, that’s another.”

“From a humorous Lover to his Fair One” (1810), a.k.a. the Bertram Wooster - Various Love Interests Letter

“...for that little rogue, Cupid, has so pinked me all over with his confounded arrows, that I look like—let me think—like what?  your ladyship’s pincushion!—but this is not all;—your eyes had like to have proved more fatal to me than Cupid and all his roguery; for, Madam, while I was star-gazing the other night at your window; full of fire and flame (as we lovers usually are) I dropped plump into your fish-pond.  By the same token I hissed like a red-hot horse-shoe flung into a smith’s trough.—It was a hundred pounds to a penny but I had been drowned; for those that came to my assistance, left me in this sad pickle to shift for myself; because forsooth!  laughing had so conquered their sides, that they were incapable of affording me the desired aid.—Seeing some fish, (very good, I presume, when dressed) approaching me with an air that seemed to question me what business I had there, I took the liberty of catching a few of my fellow-sufferers; of which I intend to make an offering to your ladyship…”

“Letter from a Gentleman to a Lady, against the tedious Forms of Courtship” and “The Lady’s Answer, encouraging a further Declaration” (1800), a.k.a. the Benedick - Beatrice Letters

“I remember that one of the ancients in describing a youth in love, says he has neither wisdom enough to speak, nor to hold his tongue.  If this be a just description, the sincerity of my passion will admit of no dispute: and whenever in your company I behave like a fool, forget not that you are answerable for my incapacity.”

“I am very little in love with the fashionable methods of courtship: sincerity with me is preferable to compliments yet I see no reason why common decency should be discarded.  There is something so odd in your style, that when I know whether you are in jest or earnest, I shall be less at a loss to answer you.  Mean time, as there is abundant room for rising, rather than sinking, in your complaisance, you may possibly have chosen wisely to begin first at the lower.  If this be the case, I know not what your succeeding addresses may produce:  But I tell you fairly, that your present makes no great impression, yet perhaps as much as you intend, on Your humble servant.”

“Letter from a Nephew to his Aunt, concerning ludicrous Treatment in Courtship” (1810), a.k.a. the Cecil Vyse - Mrs. Vyse Letter

“For some time past I have been making my addresses, in the best manner I can, to Miss Johnson, but have not the least room to boast of my success. ...I told her how happy I should think myself, if I could be encouraged to hope for the smallest share of her favor; but she made me such an odd answer as plainly demonstrated to me, that I had more of her contempt than approbation.  This made me as earnest as her to wave the subject, and so we went on upon the weather for a whole week before.  When we had done that, we talked politics…”

“From a rich young Gentleman, to a beautiful young Lady with no fortune” (1809), a.k.a. the Fitzwilliam Darcy - Elizabeth Bennet Letter

“The opportunities which I have had of conversing with you at Mrs. B’s, have at last convinced me, that merit and riches are far from being connected, and that a woman may have those qualifications necessary to adorn her sex, although adverse fortune has denied her money.  I am sure that all those virtues necessary to make me happy in the marriage state, are centered in you, and whatever objection you may have to my person, yet I hope there can be none to my character; and if you will consent to be mine, it shall be my constant study to make your life agreeable, and under the endearing character of a husband, endeavor to supply your early loss of the best of parents.  I shall expect your answer as soon as possible, for I wait for it with the utmost impatience.”