Until this time, Mr. Dupont’s mother had been spared to him. This excellent lady remained with him after the trials and afflictions, which befell her in her second marriage, and she placed in her beloved son, particularly after the death of Henrietta, all her joy and consolation.

She was, according to the account given by those who knew her, a woman of fervent piety. She rarely went out except to visit the church, and passed the greater part of her time in sewing for the poor. Her son bestowed upon her every mark of veneration and affection; he made no domestic arrangements without consulting her, and left in her hands the direction of his household. Knowing her sensitive nature, he was extremely careful not to oppose her, and, by his delicate and assiduous attentions, to spare her any vexation. On her account, he subjected himself to the most rigorous exactitude with regard to the hour for meals, and as soon as he returned home in the evening, he sought her at once, to avoid giving her cause of disquietude. His preventing kindness was exhibited, in every manner and at every moment, in the thousand details of home-life.

On her side, this beloved mother appreciated the virtues of her dear Léon, and she loved him tenderly; she provided for his wants, and watched over his health with a solicitude which, at times, was excessive, but which, nevertheless, Mr. Dupont respected through a sentiment of perfect and entire obedience. He was seen sometimes, when seated at his own table with strangers, to abstain, at the least intimation of his mother, from certain kinds of food which she imagined might be injurious to him, and send them away untouched. In everything else, Madame d’Arnaud left her son at perfect liberty. Far from interfering in his charities and good works, she would, on the contrary, favor them, and she often united with him in his plans to assist the poor. We will relate a touching instance. Mr. Dupont and his mother were informed that a friend, by a reverse of fortune, had met with a heavy pecuniary loss which destroyed his credit. They both decided immediately, and without consulting each other, to help to relieve him of his difficulties by a generous gift, and it appeared that each had fixed upon the same sum, ten thousand francs.

They lived thus together until 1860. But the time appointed by God to impose upon his servant the sacrifice of their separation had arrived.

Mr. Dupont gave the following edifying details of his mother’s death a week after it occurred. “My good mother had the sweetest death one can imagine. It devolved on me to tell her that eternity was approaching; it was about two o’clock in the morning. ‘I think,’ she replied, ‘that I shall soon die, but I have no fear; I have no fear!’ These words, on her lips, were extraordinary; for, during her whole life, my mother had a great dread of the judgments of God. Her countenance was animated, her heart, full of charity, and her lips moved in fervent prayer. After the Angelus, which we recited together, as her pulse was growing weaker, I had the courage to tell her that she was about to enter into her agony; she said to me, with a gentle smile: ‘You think I am dying?’ and clasping her hands, she said aloud: ‘Jesus, my Savior, come!’

“How can I describe to you what passed during the five hours spent in contemplation of a blessed eternity? Her agony lasted but a minute. I had only time to place her hand on my head, to receive her last benediction; when I removed her hand and kissed it,… I saw that her eyes had closed naturally; she was, in the true sense of the term, plunged in a sweet sleep.”

Nothing could be more beautiful and Christian than the manner in which such a son accepted the death of his mother. For several months, he speaks of it in every letter he writes to his friends. In every line, in the midst of the keenest sorrow and most tender regret, he gives expression to the supernatural sentiments by which he is penetrated. He makes it a duty to thank all his friends “who had prayed for his good mother,” and he does it with affectionate warmth. A pilgrim to Notre Dame de Sénanque had applied the merits of his pilgrimage in suffrage to the soul of Madame d’Arnaud. “I thank you,” he writes, “for the portion you have given me of the treasures of Notre Dame de Sénanque. My mother may, perhaps, have been enriched by it at the very time of her death.” “I thank you,” he writes to another, “as well as Madame X—–, and the kind friends who have offered a communion for my poor mother” He admits that the thought of his mother is never absent from his mind. “And yet,” he adds, “she does not cause a distraction which interferes with my attention to business affairs. Death came to her in so gentle a form, that my heart cannot detach itself from the blessed scene.”

Some time after the event, we were making him a visit, and we were alone with him, conversing upon the Holy Scriptures. Interrupting himself, he began to speak of his mother. The last words she pronounced, had particularly impressed him, and the thought of them recalled another death-bed. He remembered having known a man who lived without religion, and who died, saying: “I am afraid.” His pother, on the contrary, although sincerely pious, had always been exceedingly timorous; but at the approach of death, all anxiety fled; a smile rested upon her lips as she said: “I am not afraid,” and breathed her last. The man, who had led a careless life died, saying: “I am afraid.” The woman, who had lived in dread of death, gave up her soul to God, saying: “I am not afraid.” The contrast made a deep impression upon Mr. Dupont, and as he nourished his faith with the Scriptures, he loved to apply to his mother the words which the wise man speaks of the strong woman living in the fear of God: “She will laugh at the last day.” He told us that his mother, during her whole life, had been tortured by scruples; “but,” he added, “her obedience to her confessors, and her real fear of God merited for her, peace of soul in her last moments. The fear of the Lord, then, is that precious pearl, to acquire which, we should sell all we have.”

The death of Madame d’Arnaud had no influence in weakening the ties of devotion and affection which attached him to his native place, and to the different members of his family. From the time that he left Martinique, this faithful Creole kept up a constant communication with the island of his birth, which Christopher Columbus had consecrated by the name of St. Martin; he often spoke of it, always with pleasure, and in terms of praise; he extolled the products of its industry and the fertility of the soil; on this subject, he never wearied. To judge by his estimate of it, the rum of Martinique surpassed all other; it was even superior to that of Jamaica; and when occasion offered, to give force to his assertion, he furnished a practical proof to the friends who visited him, or whom he received at his table. Through , his patriotic interest in the Colony, and not through natural taste or speculation, he informed himself of all that concerned the cultivation of sugar and the different improvements of which that industry was susceptible. The various questions relative to Colonial government which were being agitated, at that period, in the legislative body, and on which public opinion often conflicted, engaged his attention in a particular manner, and excited, by turns, his hopes and his fears. On many points he held views which were at variance with those entertained by others, and the wisdom of his opinions has been verified by succeeding events and by experience.

He was not indifferent to any religious, political, or commercial interests affecting the island. He willingly made them a subject of conversation, when he was in company with competent and well-informed men. It was almost the only profane digression which he allowed himself from his pious conversations. The disasters which fell upon the Colony, afflicted him sensibly. He was among the first to send aid from the mother country; he solicited assistance from his friends; he proposed and encouraged subscriptions. But under these circumstances, as in all others, he lifted his eyes and heart to the supernatural cause, and his first care on hearing of these misfortunes, was to have recourse to prayer, and to combat the spirit of evil with the arms of faith.

He was, therefore, desirous that his compatriots should be made acquainted with the devotion to the Holy Face of our Lord, and the many benedictions which thence accrue to the whole world. When he commenced to distribute phials of the oil, he did not overlook his native land, and many cures, so extraordinary as to be considered miraculous, were effected by its use. The collection of certificates contains several remarkable examples.

A priest of Martinique, M. l’Abbé Selièvre, related to us that in 1859, a wealthy landholder of the Island, a good Christian, a distinguished and intellectual man, had been miraculously cured of a deafness, which had not been, in the least, relieved by the many remedies prescribed by physicians. He was an old student of the College of Juilly. At the completion of his studies, before returning to the Antilles, he went to Tours to make a visit to Mr. Dupont, as a fellow countrymen, and was kindly received. Ten years afterwards, he was attacked by the infirmity of which we have spoken. His wife, a very pious woman, without informing him of her intention, sent for some of the oil of the Holy Face, and proposed to him to anoint with it, commencing at the same time a novena which was to terminate with Holy Communion. Although he respected the man of God and had confidence in his prayers, the gentleman acceded to the proposition, rather through condescension than from any hope of being benefited. Three communions were offered by his mother, he made one himself; the unctions were continued during the nine days. At the end of the novena, he was perfectly cured, and never afterwards had a return of deafness.

When relating this to us, M. l’Abbé Selièvre added: “I have never seen Mr. Dupont, but I have frequently heard of him. You may form an idea of the reputation he enjoys in Martinique, by the remark frequently made of him in the island. Facing the sea on a mountain peak called “la Pointe du Carbet,” a grotto is pointed out, in which lived during the reign of Louis XIII, a holy man of the noble family of Lestiboudois de Lavallée. He had gone thither from France with one of his brothers, to cultivate the sugar cane. He renounced all his possessions, and retired into a cavern which he never left, except on Sunday, to attend mass; he lived there many years and died in the odor of sanctity. He was surnamed the “Hermit of Martinique.” For some time, the idea was entertained of collecting testimony as a preliminary to the process of his beatification, but the project was abandoned, and it will, probably, never be proposed again. But it is a common remark among the Creoles: “If our hermit is not canonized, we hope, at least, that Mr. Dupont will be placed upon the altar.”

The kindness of the servant of God extended to all who were united to him by family ties. They are unanimous in their commendation of the amiable qualities and rare virtues of their beloved relative.

During the first years of his residence at Tours, when he had more time at his disposal, he took pleasure in making a visit, in company with his mother and daughter, to the members of his family in the country. How happy he was, in return, to welcome them in his own home, and to extend to them a cordial hospitality! His house was to be to them as their own. Whether he was present or absent, he wished none of them to pass through Tours without going to visit him, either to remain or to refresh themselves, as suited their convenience. He received them in a warm and cheerful manner; was bright, frank, and joyous with them, and made no change in his exercises of piety, nor in the style of his conversation. He was always the man of faith and of prayer; neither family interests, nor the requirements of relationship, drew him from the supernatural atmosphere in which he habitually lived. Whether his company and conversation in these circumstances proved a source of heavenly benedictions, is the secret of God. We may, nevertheless, conjecture that it was so, from the following incident related to us by one his cousins.

“Léon spoke to me often of the core and conversion of a woman, whose tongue was eaten by a cancer. The cure was obtained by the prayers of a Carmelite religious, who continued to repeat for that intention: ‘Jesus, be to me a Jesus!’ It was this invocation enclosed in a little case which Léon put around the neck of my little Raoul, I still preserve this case. Léon had it made, to attract the child who had been ill for several months, and refused to see any one. I had forbidden Léon to go into my room, because, on that day, we were fearing a dangerous return of fever. Léon persisted in going, and I remember saying to him: ‘How obstinate you are!’ I made haste to enter the room in advance of him, and I took Raoul on my lap. Léon followed me, crossed the room and seated himself on the other side. He said to Raoul: ‘Come to me,’ I expected to hear the child shriek. Instead of that, Raoul went to him, and climbed on his knee, although he saw him for the first time. Léon caressed him, and then hung this little case around his neck. He went down stairs and said to the family: ‘Raoul is cured; there is no further cause of alarm; we will recite the prayer.” We discontinued at once the large doses of quinine which had been ordered him; his health was restored; and, to our joy and Léon’s also, he became quite vigorous.”

Among the members of his family, he counted the children with whom he had contracted a spiritual affinity in the sacrament of baptism, and they were very numerous. He estimated the number at forty. When any of his godchildren were mentioned, he would say: “he is one of my party,” They be longed to every class in society; for, like Marie de Maillé, he cheerfully consented to act as sponsor, either to please a friend, or to oblige a stranger. Sometimes it happened that the parish priest could find no one to answer in the name of some poor, abandoned child; he would apply to Mr. Dupont, who never refused the request. He considered the choice of him as an honor, and he was careful to fulfil all the duties, and to acquit himself of a charge which, at times, proved very onerous. His godchildren were the objects of his constant solicitude. If their parents were either dead or absent, he acted as their guardian and father, received them into his house, gave them hospitality for weeks, or even months; he helped them in their necessities; for example, he often requested his friend, Mr. d’Avrainville, to remit sums of twenty, thirty, fifty, one and two hundred francs to some who were at a distance, and whom he knew to be in want.

On different occasions, he was sponsor for converts from Protestantism and Judaism. He was happy to perform the office, and was sometimes indemnified in the most gratifying manner. He speaks with enthusiasm in one of his letters, of the “last moments of a dear soul who returned to the bosom of the Church twelve years ago, and who repeated, over and over, with an uncontrollable joy: ‘I am a Catholic, I am a Catholic!’ I had the honor of being his godfather, and I am well recompensed by the sight of a death which is a signal triumph over the powers of hell.”

Several of his godchildren are still living, and they preserve an ineffaceable remembrance of his wise counsels and his many acts of kindness. The same may be said of his servants, most of whom have survived him; they never weary when dwelling upon the virtues of their master, and upon the interest he manifested in their welfare on numerous occasions. Adele, particularly, who never left him after his arrival in Tours, says she had many touching proofs of his tender friendship. She was once dangerously ill, and Mr. Dupont lavished upon her the care of a brother or a father. He afterwards said frequently: “Adele has buried all who were near to me; she had a serious illness, but God has left her to take care of me to the last.”

His attachment to his family leads us to speak of his delicate attentions and generosity to his friends; they were numerous, were from different countries, and different positions in life. All, without exception, extol the constancy of his affection and his preventing kindness. His relations with them were easy, agreeable, and marked by politeness and urbanity. Devoting his time entirely to the reception of pilgrims, and his daily increasing correspondence, he rarely left the house except to go to the church. “You know,” he wrote, (May 31, 1866,) “that, for want of time, I see no one, unless the Little Sisters of the Poor, whom I visit once a week.” But although he no longer visited his friends, he did not cease his kind attentions to them. Whenever he saw them, as for instance, on New Yearns day, or on other festivals, he welcomed them warmly, and with every expression of joy; they rarely left him without having received some little gift, such as a picture, a medal, or printed sheets of prayers or pious ejaculations. He presented these simple articles to his visitors with a cordiality and an air of piety, that added to the perfume of holiness, and the aroma of good thoughts which were always the fruit of his conversations.

He was ingenious in devising means of rendering himself useful, or of conferring pleasure. Being told of a manufacturer of excellent razors, he wrote to Mr. d’Avrainville to buy him a pair for his own use. A month later he writes: “I am so pleased with the two razors, that I would like to offer a pair to Dom Guéranger the first time he comes to Tours. I therefore beg you to have the kindness to ask the cutler to select them, and add also a strap.”

The “strap” reminds us of a singular means, which the excellent man had either learned or invented, of sharpening razors, and which, he said, he had always used with complete success. These straps consisted of small pieces of white wood smooth and well polished. He prepared them himself very carefully, in order to make presents of them, and he recommended them so earnestly that, not to appear disobliging, his friends consented to accept and try them. He sent one of this kind to Dom Guéranger, and we are told that the religious of his Community sometimes found him using Mr. Dupont’s strap, and he declared that his razors had never cut so well.

As soon as the servant of God heard that any of his acquaintances were suffering, he hastened to propose, with the approbation of the physician, the use of his “Sulphur cupping glasses.” He would himself perform the operation, which he did with great dexterity, and, frequently, with wonderful success. We say “his cupping glasses, because the unusual size of the cups and the application of the vapor of sulphur, were his own idea. Moreover, he offered to do this little service with so much kindness and charity, he was so pleased when it was accepted, that the patient would have feared to pain him by a refusal.

What friend of his can say he never heard him speak of his famous “beans,” nor ate them at his table, nor received a package of them from him? Had he a method peculiar to himself, a secret way of cultivating them? It is certain that none could be found in Touraine so savory to the taste, or so luxuriant in growth. They were sent originally from Nice. He ordered them of the best quality during a favorable season. He requested Mr. d’Avrainville to make the purchases for him, and his letters are filled with minute details, which give evidence of the zeal and delicacy that were evinced by this charitable man, even in trifles, when they had reference to his good works. The seeds which were forwarded to him served, first, for his own garden, and were, next, distributed to the different Communities of the city. He had always one, or several beds of these fine vegetables, the stalks of which were at the same time laden with blossoms, ripe, and dry beans, hanging in a marvelous profusion from high branches. The greater portion of these were destined for the Little Sisters of the Poor. As long as he lived, he superintended the cultivation, and distributed the yield which was considerable, and which furnished a welcome treat to the old people of the Sisters.

When the authorities of the city of Tours were engaged in the arrangement of a botanical garden, Mr. Dupont, always devoted to the interests of his adopted country, was not indifferent to this work of public utility. He imported from the colonies various exotic plants which could, with difficulty, have been otherwise procured.

He was as grateful for the kindnesses done to him, as he was generous, and desirous of rendering services to others. His course towards Mr. d’Avrainville is an example of this. He studies the means of giving him pleasure, and takes advantage of the slightest opportunity to pay him a little attention. “My dear friend,” he writes to him, “the sight of some very fine peaches, which were sent us from Gascony, suggested the idea of forwarding to you a few bunches of grapes. They are not as nicely arranged as my mother and myself desired. There are eight peaches. My mother begs you to share the basket with Mademoiselle de R—–.” Not being able to go see his distant friends, he invited them to visit him. He offered them hospitality for several  days or several weeks. Mr. d’Avrainville received one of these invitations nearly every year. His visit was arranged a long time in advance, and was impatiently anticipated. “I look forward with great joy, my dear friend, to our annual meeting. It is impossible for me to absent, myself from home; but, like the good Samaritan, you will come to the poor traveler. You understand what I would add, if I knew how to return my thanks in a complimentary style.”

In these invitations, he showed equal generosity and delicacy. “My dear friend,” he wrote to him at another time, “it is absolutely necessary that we should meet before the Holy Face, and there speak to God. Do not be displeased, but I take upon myself all the expenses of the journey. Come spend a Sunday at Tours. You can easily do so.” The few days which Mr. d’Avrainville passed in his house, eating at his table, praying in his oratory, walking in his garden, furnished him with a rest, a holiday which he required. To this intimate intercourse, we are indebted for many details of Mr. Dupont’s private life which would, otherwise, have remained unknown. We will relate a little incident which, ludicrous and amusing as it is, will throw out, in strong light, his character, as well as the kind of reputation he enjoyed among certain persons. We give it in Mr. d’Avrainville’s own words.

“Madame d’Avrainville and myself were seated with Mr. Dupont when he was opening several letters he had just received. We noticed, as he read one of them, that he was laughing immoderately. Having finished the letter, he said to me: “My dear friend, you may guess a thousand, ten thousand times, and you will never hit upon the contents of that letter… It is an offer of marriage!… in order that the individual may more certainly attain a higher perfection by the good example she will have!’ A lady had really written him that, having heard of his many virtues and his great piety, and being very pious herself, she proposed a union with him, that she might more easily advance in the path of perfection, and cooperate in his charitable works; she informed him that she possessed an income of ten thousand francs, which statement could be corroborated by her lawyer, who was empowered to receive his reply. Nevertheless, she considered it her duty to inform him that, for several years, she had been afflicted with a tape-worm… ”Mr. d’Avrainville adds: “Of his answer I only remember the following: ‘That she had been misinformed as to the person whom she required to further her interests, as he had not time to attend to his own affairs, and moreover, since she said she was afflicted with a tape-worm, he must, in all charity and sincerity, advise her to remain content with that, as she would not be able to support two…’’” Mr. Dupont never mentioned this circumstance to any one but Mr. d’Avrainville; he did not give the name of the individual, nor was the subject ever again broached between them.

He was admirable in his intercourse with persons in affliction. On occasions, a word from him sufficed to infuse the balm of consolation into a suffering heart, and to enkindle in it a ray of faith. A mother, inconsolable for the loss of her daughter, was once expressing her grief to him in extravagant terms. Calm and silent, he allowed her to pour out her feelings. Then folding his arms, and with an authoritative manner, which was so suited to him, he said: “Let us consider the circumstances for a moment, Madame. If, at this instant, it were in your power to resuscitate your daughter, and restore her to this world of imperfections and miseries, would you do it?” The mother was obliged to answer: “No.” “Then do not mourn her death.”

Without being a priest, he had the tenderness of the good pastor, and the active zeal of an apostle. What was said of our Lord might be said of him: that he was “the friend of sinners;” he manifested towards them a preference and a kindness, which sufficiently indicated his ardent desire to convert and to save them. He gladly made himself the servant of the father of the family, going through the streets and seeking the wandering sheep, to bring them back to the fold. His preventing charity was not limited in its exercise, and was ever on the alert to discover means of doing good. He would often stop, when passing through the streets in the evening, to assist some who had lost their way or been belated, to find their lodgings; these were children, workmen, strangers in the city, sometimes soldiers who should be at their barracks, but who, reeling from intoxication, could not, otherwise, reach them in time. His embarrassment was very great, one evening, on meeting an intoxicated soldier, when it was quite late. He began to reason with the man, urging him to return as quickly as possible, in order to avoid the punishment appointed by military rule to be inflicted in such cases. The soldier resisted all his solicitations. The holy man, listening only to the suggestions of his kind heart, gave him two francs, to induce him to consent; but the drunkard, overjoyed at having money in hand, insisted upon entering a neighboring tavern in order, he said, “to treat his benefactor.” In despair, not knowing what expedient to adopt, and tired of the contest, Mr. Dupont requested the aid of a friend that lived near. He was an old soldier, who addressed the drunkard in such a manner as to force him, bon gré mal gré, to take the road towards the barracks. The servant of God asked him to follow the man, and prevent him from loitering on the way, and also to recommend him to the mercy of the superior officer. Full of interest in the case, he went, the next day, to inquire how the affair had terminated, and was delighted to find that the punishment inflicted had been very light. The result of his charity was the conversion of the soldier, who, being informed of the kindness exercised towards him, corrected his fault and became a good Christian.

His zeal for sinners made him appreciate the work of mercy performed by the Sisters of the Refuge. He felt a particular attraction for that Community. He went there frequently, inquired into the wants of the house, and contributed, by his alms, to keep it in good condition. He placed in it penitent young girls, and he never lost sight of those whom he had confided to the care of the Sisters; he visited them frequently, to inquire about their progress, to encourage and counsel them. “We have sometimes seen him,” says the Superioress, “kneel before young penitents who were tempted to return to the world, and entreat them to remain. At other times, when he could not influence some of them, either by reasoning or persuasion, to perform a penance imposed, as for example to kiss the floor, he would say: “Very well, my child, I will perform the penance for you, and kneeling, he would humbly kiss the floor”

It is not easy to record the kindness and preventing care which he lavished upon the sick and infirm who made a pilgrimage to the Holy Face. A servant in a Community of the city was suffering from her throat; she had great difficulty both in eating and speaking. Full of confidence in Mr. Dupont, whom she knew, she arrived at his house just as he was going out. Pulling him by the sleeve, she said in the lowest whisper: “I was going to you, Sir, to be cured.” He kindly returned, interrogated her, and asked if she could have the courage to drink a little of the oil burning before the Holy Face. She was willing to do anything, and swallowed a few drops of the oil which the servant of God presented to her. They began to recite the Litany. “All pain,” she says, “left me, and as we advanced in the Litany my voice became stronger. ‘Now you must eat,’ he said, and I swallowed with perfect ease the food he offered me. As I was not entirely restored, he kindly said to me: ‘You need more nutritious food; come here and we will take care of you.’  I remained a month in his house. His mother, Madame d’Arnaud, attended to me, my health was reestablished, and it has continued good for more than twenty years.”

The same delicate and generous attentions were bestowed upon his workmen. He loved to give them pleasure, and never neglected an occasion of rendering them a service. When the provisional chapel of St. Martin was completed, there were twenty workmen of different trades who had been actively employed on the work. Mr. Dupont, in order to please them, arranged an agreeable surprise: he requested them to attend a Mass to be offered for their intention, after which he directed a good breakfast to be served them at his expense. Upon such occasions as these, he paid liberally, but he remained modestly silent, or spoke a few words without affectation. His kindness to the workingmen was based upon a supernatural intention; it would be, he thought, a means of bringing them nearer to God, and of conferring upon them a spiritual and solid benefit. Every one knew that this noble Christian had but one aim in these charitable actions, that of gaining souls to God and attaching them to the faith.