While passing his life before the Holy Face, in the midst of the infirm and afflicted who went every day to beg the aid of his prayers, and solicit from his hands unctions with the miraculous oil, Mr. Dupont was not less faithful to the daily labor of his vast correspondence with his acquaintances, friends, and all who had recourse to him by letters, for any purpose of faith or piety. His correspondence occupied a large place in his life. It contributed, as much as his good works, to procure glory to God by the benefit it was to numbers of souls.

He frequently received fourteen and fifteen letters a day. He answered all of them on the same day; he made this practice a law to himself. It is difficult to appreciate properly the additional amount of occupation this imposed upon him, and the various sacrifices which thence resulted. For a long time, he had renounced oven dining out with friends; this, however, did not cost him much, as he himself acknowledges: “For twenty-three years (he writes in 1859,) I have not dined from home. I cannot express to you the pleasure I experience in realizing that I have been able to escape that tyranny.” He had, likewise, given up every kind of amusement, and all games introduced into drawing-rooms; this cost him no more than the other, as he gives us to understand in certain remarks made in a letter to a friend: “I should be astonished, if you could discover any sign of real joy on the faces of those engaged in backgammon, and such other trifles invented to kill time. But the Holy Scriptures, in telling us that time is short, instruct us that we should not kill it, but make a good use of it.”

These sacrifices were light, but nothing was more opposed to his natural disposition than the habit to which he subjected himself of replying, day by day, to the letters which were sent him, and remaining seated for hours at his desk, attending to his correspondence. He was to be seen taking notes, registering recommendations for the Nocturnal Adoration, or for the Holy Face, replying to persons who had written to him, and doing it all with a serenity of countenance, and an air of cheerfulness which never betrayed the extent of the sacrifice. The number of letters, the result of this incessant labor, was immense. We have in our possession only a portion of those which have been preserved, but these suffice to enable us to form a judgment of the others. All bear the impress of a holy originality, which stamps him as a supernatural man, a man of faith, living in the midst of our modern society, in a world apart, like a Christian of the early ages. Mr. Dupont appears in them just as he is. He is truly “himself;” we find his exquisite urbanity, his preventing and affectionate charity, his elevated piety, his active and generous zeal for the glory of God, the interest of the Church, and for her works; there is in them the same cheerful pleasantry as in his conversations, the same serenity of soul and imperturbable confidence in God; there is the same disposition, the same simplicity, the same forgetfulness of self and of his personality.

There is not a letter which does not contain a pious sentiment, either under the form of a remark, a reflection, or a prayer. Even his letters of business and pure civility, however short they may be, exhibit this characteristic. He frequently commences thus” “I salute your good angel,” or the Blessed Virgin, or the saint whose festival was celebrated on that day. They conclude with such words as the following i “Let us love Jesus, in order that He may grant us the graces we need, to serve Him.” “I salute you at the feet of Jesus and Mary.” He rarely omits to quote in the body of the letter a text from the Scriptures, and if he refers to the political or religious events of the period, he views and judges them with the eye of faith. The motto he had adopted for conversation: “To speak of God, or to keep silence,” seems to have been applied equally to his correspondence: “To write of God and the things of God, or to cease to write.”

The nature of the subjects of which he treats is infinitely various, according to the impressions of the moment, the circumstances in which France and the Church are placed, or the persons to whom he is writing. He enters at once into their spiritual necessities and the dispositions of their souls. He is particularly interesting, when he undertakes by his letters and prayers to obtain the return to God of a friend, a countryman, or of one who is dear to him. With this in view, he enters into an active and continuous correspondence! from which no other occupation has power to withdraw him.

As long as time was at his disposal, previous to the commencement of the pilgrimages to the Holy Face, he would write at length upon a subject of devotion which attracted him, or on some religious news recently imparted to him, which caused him joy. His letters, at such times, would extend to four or five pages, or even more, written neatly and without erasures, from the abundance of his heart, and with the outpouring of his beautiful soul. In proportion as the visits of pilgrims call upon his time, his letters become shorter and shorter, concise, reduced to a few lines with many words abbreviated. At last, they were simple notes, in each of which sparkled in streams of light and fire, holy thoughts and pious words. Without being a scholar, he had real epistolary genius. His phraseology, although somewhat diffuse, at times obscure or unconnected, is expressive and graceful. His style is flowing, easy, agreeable, simple, elegant and correct; it is the language of a man of education and taste, stamped with a seal of originality and a vigor of expression which possess both merit and beauty.

To enable the reader to appreciate the servant of God in this respect, we will reproduce some of the letters written by him on different subjects during the period (1845 to 1860) when he was actively engaged in the works of St. Martin, the Nocturnal Adoration, and the pilgrimage to the Holy Face.

To Mr. Le Pailleur. December 8, 1845. “My dear friend, quam bonus Deus Israel! How good is the God of Israel! How wonderful is the attribute of goodness in God! God alone is good, said our Lord… But we must become good, as far as our weakness permits, since it was said that the good will  be on the right hand, and the wicked, on the left. What a moment! I imagine that those, who will have passed their lives in thinking and saying: ‘How good is God!’ will not be condemned to feel the weight of His justice during eternity. Pray then, I beg you, that these words, so sweet to the heart: ‘How good is God!’ may often be upon my lips to refresh them; pray that I may often have the opportunity of speaking them to the ears of those with whom I may be associated. My God, since faith comes by hearing, I understand that Thou must demand an account of idle words, and I humbly ask pardon for all those which I have either uttered, or listened to with pleasure. Ask for me of our good God the secret of loving, and the grace afterwards to impart it.”

To a friend in Cayenne. April 8, 1848. “What will become of Europe, Asia, America, and the Colonies? God knows. What we know, my dear friend, is that ‘all things work together for the good of the elect,’ and in order to look calmly at the future, we need to advance, as far as possible, in the path of justice. A narrow way, because it is but little frequented, but assuredly a very pleasant way. The wicked, after death, will exclaim, howling: Lassati eamus in via iniquitates et perditiones. ‘We wearied ourselves in the way of iniquity and destruction.’  It is not necessary to have advanced far in life, to know that man takes more trouble and pains, to damn than to sanctify himself. When, appealing to the Gospel, we say to some one: “Do not deceive yourself, the present life is short; a throne of glory awaits in the life to come those who yield their hearts to this magnificent promise,…” too often, alas! these beautiful words are disdainfully rejected, and after having derided both the Holy Book, which contains the glorious Testament, and him who interprets it in favor of man redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ,… the foolish man returns to the things of earth, and, as though it were not enough for him to wallow in the mire, he takes vanity in it. Fie! fie!”

To the same. October 7, 1848. “No doubt, my dear friend, the complaint you make, that you find few aids to piety in Cayenne, is well founded, but I should prefer to know that fortifying yourself against such an obstacle, you had made that very privation the corner-stone of a great spiritual progress. You would be as the tree beaten by the tempest, planted on a rock, which, for that very reason, becomes stronger and more hardy than the one which springs up delicate and slender, in the shade of a humid valley. Do you think that our Lord has no graces in store for those who practice to the letter the counsel: Contendite intrare? The possession of Heaven is worth the struggle, and I am convinced that the difficulties which we meet in the road, are levelled in proportion as we make use of them as stepping-stones to elevate ourselves to God.

“Hardly were they enlightened by the truths of faith, when the first Christians were ready to shed their blood in defence of these truths before proconsuls, and now among Christians, scarcely do we venture to say we are Christians. But a decisive moment has arrived: faith elevates itself, and God is not sparing of miracles. Truth alone can offer effectual resistance in the present crisis, which is the desperate struggle of all bad doctrines whose origin is the principle of a depraved reason, a principle, breathed into Luther, by the old liar, Satan…”

To the Superioress of the Visitation of Paray-le-Monial, May 9, 1848. “How many evidences are given at the present time to prove to people of faith that the hour for combat has arrived, and that our good Jesus is about to win for Himself, a second time, by the loving effusions of His Sacred Heart, the title of Saviour assumed by Him on Calvary, which the Vernon endeavors to tear from the hearts of men. And it happens that the successor of Pius IX has been prophetically designated by the glorious words: Lumen in caelo, ‘light in Heaven.’ With what confidence then should we not consider the future! The contest may be terrible, but it will eventually be to the disadvantage of the impious, and, assuredly, many souls will be brought back to the love and fear of God. Let us live then in the sweet confidence that the Heart of Jesus, combating the spirit of the world, will gain a signal victory…

To a son on the death of his mother. December 12, 1857. “My very dear friend, the designs of Providence are merciful. You regret that you were unable to close the eyes of your mother; but who knows if your good angel and hers did not thus dispose circumstances, in order to secure a greater peace for your dear mother, at the moment when Jesus, Sacrament and not Judge, was about to introduce her into eternity? Is anything comparable to a death following closely upon holy Viaticum? We may well say then with the apostle: Ubi est, mors, victoria tua? ‘O death, where is thy victory?’ It not only opens the gate of Heaven to the deceased, but it becomes a balm of consolation to the survivors. We will pray that this balm may superabound in your hearts, particularly in your father’s. On your return, we will consider together the happiness of those souls whose lives have been holy, and we will animate ourselves to follow their example, that we may not be, for those who survive us, a cause of sorrow.”

To a wife on the death of her husband. October 3, 1855. ”Madame, the trials of this life conduct us to the joys of eternity. This is the consolation which first presents itself to the soul, at the moment when a friend is taken from us, after having labored courageously at the work of salvation. It is in Heaven, and in no place else, that we must in thought unite with those who have happily terminated their pilgrimage. There is one sentence of the Gospel which will remain unchanged through centuries, always imparting peace to the wounded heart when, by slightly varying the sense, we apply to a deceased friend what the angel said to the holy women at the sepulcher: ‘Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here.’ No, he is not here in these mortal remains, which will await henceforth in the dust of the earth, the resurrection of the body. We must lift our eyes on high, and we never do so without experiencing either a great consolation, or entertaining the hope of being one day reunited to the object of our tears. How many things I could say to you! Better is the house of mourning than the house of joy. The Holy Scripture is explicit on this point.

“Be pleased to say to Mr. L—– that I am grateful for the sentiments of regard he expresses for me in your letter. His good angel will soon make known to him that the alms bestowed by his father, are singularly efficacious in abridging the distance between earth and Heaven. Nevertheless, we will pray at the Nocturnal Adoration for the venerable deceased. Permit me to subscribe myself in our Lord and at the feet of Mary, &c., &c…

To a friend. Transports of fervor and divine love. May 17, 1851. It is true that the political situation is dark; but if the political horizon is clouded, the heavenly horizon is clear; we must be blind, if we fail to see the sweet dew of graces descending upon the parched earth. There are too many prayers ascending from earth to allow us to suppose that God will abandon us: too many holy souls are weeping, to permit us to fear the degrading chaos into which philosophy would drag humanity, contrary to its high destiny.

“Let us then weep with those who desire to save their brethren; let us love God, since He alone is good; let us also love each other since he has commanded us to do so, and, by obeying His holy law, we are certain of enjoying His holy love throughout eternity.”

To the same. Love of our Lord and zeal for the salvation of souls. April 3, 1853. “Truly, my dear friend, what prevents us, who believe in Jesus and Mary, from running after them to the conquests of souls? We should weep incessantly at the thought of the terrible woes, towards which are rushing the impious, the careless, and, with them, the inert mass which more or less blindly follows the example of others. Was it not the tears of the sisters of Lazarus which made him come forth from the tomb, without their being able to take the least vanity from their mediation in the affair? Let us then weep over the spiritually dead, and Jesus, for the glory of God, may command many to come forth from the tomb.”

To the same. Compliments of the New Year. January 15, 1855. “Had I been able to dispose even of a moment, I would, certainly, have written you at the commencement of the New Year. The Christian sentiment infused into it, relieves the idea of what is commonplace. There is, besides, a serious reality in the gift of another year for which we shall have to render an account. God evidently grants it to us, only with the intention that we should profit by it to do penance, and, through penance, to render ourselves worthy of paradise at the end of our days. Thus, those who content themselves with saying on the 1st of January: ‘I wish you a happy New Year.’  are generally indifferent as to the care of their salvation; and they need, at least once a year, to hear people of faith speak of paradise, in order to interrupt by such thoughts, the prescriptive right which Satan would claim over them.”

The disastrous inundation of the Loire in 1856, holds an important place in Mr. Dupont’s correspondence. He had regarded the one of 1846 as a serious warning from Heaven to his adopted country. He had thence drawn the conclusion, that in such circumstances prayer, persevering prayer, was a necessity.

Animated by the spirit of the Church, he wished to see his fellow-citizens profiting by this lesson of Divine Providence. Witnessing, on the contrary, the scandalous public rejoicing to which, after the inundation, even good people abandoned themselves, and which afforded just grounds to fear and foresee the political commotions of 1848 and the following years, the man of God was alarmed by what he called a satanic influence; he advised men to have recourse to the invocation of the holy name of Jesus, a practice of reparation by which he was, at that time, entirely preoccupied.

“Oh!” he said, “would that all at Tours could profit by the terrible warning! But behold, alas! balls and plays are arranged for the benefit of the victims of the inundation! Is not Satan merciless? His charity is to make men laugh, and every philanthropist must first amuse himself before aiding his unfortunate brother. The Holy Ghost has said: The poor man is merciful; but the lying spirit would persuade us that charity is in the heart of the rich; and then he ensnares the rich by the bait of pleasure, and they believe that they have performed a good work, when, after all, they have only insulted misfortune. This is one of the great evils of our age, and one of the most difficult to attack. But let us have recourse to our good Master. Let a holy distrust of self possess us at the sight of so many enemies, who wish to efface His holy name from our hearts. In order to resist this odious attack, let us have often on our lips the adorable name of Jesus. Are we not told that in His name we can do all things? What other help then do we need? Jesus! be to us a Jesus.”

Mr. Dupont interpreted public disasters as providential and mysterious events, in which God, by a deep design of His wisdom, evinces both His justice and His mercy. It is from this two fold point of view eminently supernatural, that in 1856 he forms his judgment upon the sudden inundation of the Loire, by which the city of Tours was the principal sufferer.

In the midst of the catastrophe, the Prioress of the Benedictines of Arras and the chaplain wrote to make inquiries as to his safety. He replied immediately (June 10, 1856): “I am touched by the interest manifested by yourselves and the good people of Arras in our regard. It is undoubtedly true that Tours was in imminent danger of utter destruction. During the night of the 4th, it seemed certain that in less than an hour the whole city would be swept away like a straw, by the waters which, for several days, had been threatening to overwhelm us. We had never been in such danger. But our good God did not deal the blow. He did not wish to call, unexpectedly, thirty thousand souls before the tribunal of His justice.”

Then in reply to the anxiety expressed concerning himself personally, he says: “One foot more, and the water would have entered my room. We were spared, and were consoled on finding that the water which was rising in the garden also, rose no higher from the moment that I yielded to the entreaties of two worthy men, and consented to elevate a little the stand which supports the lamp before the Holy Face.”

These “worthy people,” not having Mr. Dupont’s faith, expected to see his room flooded, and, fearing for the holy picture, they persuaded him to elevate the stand. The servant of the Holy Face consented with great reluctance. What happened is not related by himself; it was too personal, but we can assert it upon the testimony of several eye-witnesses. When the waters of the Loire overflowing its banks, rose in continually increasing waves as far as Saint-Etienne street, Mr. Dupont, inspired by confidence and the spirit of faith, traced in his garden opposite the rise of the waters, a transverse line in the direction of the Holy Face in his drawing-room. The water, which was becoming higher as it progressed, stopped its course exactly at that dividing line. The house was not damaged in the least. Every one recognized in this circumstance a special mark of the divine protection.

Mr. Dupont exercised great generosity towards the sufferers by the inundation.

Notwithstanding the superhuman efforts to protect the quarter of Saint-Pierre-des-Corps from the waters, the whole faubourg and the surrounding country were submerged. Fortunately, a portion of the population had sought refuge in time, either in the grounds attached to Saint-Gatian, or in the gardens, and on the terraces of the archiepiscopal residence. It was a frightful night. In every direction, buildings and walls were falling with a loud crash. Those residents of the faubourg who had delayed to leave their houses, until escape was cut off by the waters, awaited the daylight in the most intense anxiety. Mr. Plailly, the curate of the parish, a man of intelligent zeal and active intrepidity, remained with a few courageous men as his companions in the center of his parish, in order to lend aid wherever the necessity was most imperious. In this critical situation, while the whole city was a prey to the greatest alarm, Mr. Dupont went in a boat, at four o’clock in the morning, to visit the victims of the inundation. To kind words and charitable encouragement, he added the substantial help of provisions, money, and other important articles. Mr. Dupont was the first to go to the scene of the disaster; the second, was His Eminence, Cardinal Morlot, who went in a boat to console and succor the unfortunate. The successor of St. Martin and the holy man of Tours, without previous concert, inspired by the same thought, met where charity called. Under such circumstances as these, Mr. Dupont considered, in the first place, the sanctification and spiritual good of souls; but he did not neglect the corporal wants of the sufferers, nor the duties of an enlightened charity.

His sojourn at the baths of Néris and of Bourbon l’Archambault furnishes, likewise, the subject of several interesting letters.

Mr. Dupont had an excellent constitution and robust health. His lofty stature and finely proportioned form, the serenity of his countenance which mirrored the peace of his soul, and the sprightliness of his conversation, evidenced a man sound in body and mind, equally well endowed physically and morally. But when, in consequence of the spread of devotion to the Holy Face, he condemned himself to a sedentary life, as contrary to his tastes as to his temperament, he suffered from severe attacks of gout and rheumatism, for which the physicians obliged him to try remedies. At first, they prescribed the baths of Néris. “Your letter of the 10th of May, my dear friend,” he writes to a missionary (July 3, 1843), “found me at the baths, where I have been for the past week, by order of the physician, on account of rheumatism, which threatens to settle in all the principal joints. I am assured that twenty days at the baths will suffice to restore me. God knows. Does God will it? Fiat voluntas tua, that holy and sovereignly good will.”

In going to the baths, he obeys the physician, he does the will of God, and we see the manner in which he sanctifies “the broad way,” as he calls it, “along which he is compelled to drag himself with pain.” “For our motto during  the journey, we adopted,” he says “these words of Father Avancini, Assuesce non inania, sed divinia loqui, ut socium itineris habeas Jesum. ‘Accustom yourself to speak, not of frivolous things, but of God and divine things, that you may merit to have Jesus as the companion of your journey.’” Speaking of his sojourn at the baths, he adds: “I can scarcely meet with one here who is willing to make the agreement with me to speak only of God. Usually, people come to the baths only to gratify the beast; and the most wicked of all beasts derives great profit from this animal disposition.”

As his malady had notably augmented in consequence of his continual and increasing correspondence, the baths of Bourbon were ordered him. His friends were surprised that he went to the baths, and did not have recourse to the anointing with oil, and the prayers he employed so efficaciously for others. “You must know,” he writes to one of his friends, “that, before going to the baths of  Bourbon, I asked our Lord to cure me of the rheumatism, which is of a nature to incapacitate me for work. Not having obtained my petition, which did not surprise me, I considered it my duty to seek natural remedies, submitting myself with my whole heart to the will of God.”

We find him there again in 1862: “Here I am for twenty days to come, engaged in a life rather animal than spiritual. But I have scarcely more time than at Tours, as my correspondence follows me here.” Without being entirely restored, he ceased going to Bourbon where, however, he left the reputation of a saint, as we may judge by the following extract from a letter written by a pious priest: “Oh! if you knew the good odor of virtue afforded by the ‘holy man of Tours’, to the little city of Bourbon l’Archambault, where I was so fortunate as to live with him and study him closely for two seasons!” The citizens of the place, and the peasants of the surrounding country gave him no other name than “saint.” “Is the saint here?” they would ask when they brought the infirm to him to be healed. A peasant woman one day led her child, who was club-footed, to Mr. Dupont, and asked him to cure her. The saint, in his humility, said to the woman: “It is not I who can cure your daughter; God alone has that power. Pray to Him with great confidence. Here is a little oil taken from a lamp which always burns before a picture of the Holy Face of our Lord; apply this oil to your child’s foot, and, in the meantime, I will unite my prayers with yours.” That time was not long: in a few minutes, the foot had assumed a natural form. Not able to contain her joy, the little girl, jumping four steps at a time, descended the two stories of the house. It would be impossible to describe the effect produced upon the inmates of the house by this instantaneous cure. The happy mother had, as she said, no trouble now, but that of getting new shoes and stockings for her child.

Perhaps the reader is curious to know what kind of life Mr. Dupont led during the season at the baths. It may be summed up in a few words. After taking the daily bath, and other remedies usually prescribed at such places of resort, he did not lose his time. He devoted none of it to anything frivolous, useless, or sensual. Every morning at half-past four, he was at church. “He was there,” says the Superioress of the hospital, “at our meditation; he returned at three o’clock in the afternoon. He would go and converse with the curate; he would come to see us, and entertain the Sisters on some pious subject, he would visit the sick, the poor, the peasants of the neighborhood, in order to speak to them of God. His life was, in every respect, edifying, and in no way resembled that led by others who frequented the baths.”

He did not exactly bestow large alms; but his charity was characterized by a delicacy peculiar to himself. When he met, or saw from his window, a woman carrying a basket of fruit or vegetables, he would stop her, buy her little stock, pay the price demanded, then, pointing towards the hospital, he would say: “Take them to the kitchen of the Orphan Asylum.” When the Sister in charge of the kitchen inquired the price, the woman would reply: “You owe nothing; I have been paid: the grand gentleman who lives opposite sent you what I had.” This happened so frequently that it ceased to excite surprise.

In the suburbs of Bourbon, there lived a poor man terribly deformed, and of the most repulsive appearance. Every one shunned him on account of his violent and disagreeable temper; his mother alone succeeded, although with great difficulty, in calming him. His name was Rollin. Mr. Dupont was told of the lamentable condition of the unfortunate man; he asked to see him, and was conducted to the house. By dint of kind attentions and gentle words, he tamed that passionate and savage nature, which gradually yielded to the influence of his goodness. The servant of God, moreover, declares openly that Rollin is his friend, and that he takes great pleasure in visiting and conversing with him. Rollin, for his part, is proud of his only friend. Religion soon crowns the work of charity. Faithful to the advice of his benefactor, he becomes reconciled with God and man. He died a few years afterwards with the sentiments of a true Christian. No one doubted that he was indebted to Mr. Dupont’s charitable attentions for his happy death.

A season at the Springs has become in our days a requirement of fashionable life. In conducting thither the servant of the Holy Face, notwithstanding his repugnance, Divine Providence had His own designs… In his person was presented to those who frequent these resorts of leisure and pleasure, a model of the virtues which ought to be practiced by Christians. We know, moreover, that he was made the instrument of the conversion or the spiritual direction of many souls. Between the pious layman and unknown strangers, or passing visitors, there was often established a friendship or an acquaintance which led to a continuous correspondence, or which was the cause of graces miraculously obtained.