Cobbett never loses an opportunity of vilifying the parsons and expressing his hatred of the Established Church; and yet, albeit a Protestant, he invariably softens down when he refers to the Roman Catholic faith and appears quite capable of seeing the good that is in it.
It was Blount, I think, who had soothed the savage breast of the man in this matter.

The only thing I could hear about Blount and his "queer notions" regarding the land was his idea that the soil could be improved by taking the flints out.

"The soil to look upon," Cobbett truly says, "appears to be more than half flint, but is a very good quality." Blount thought to make it better, and for many years employed all the aged poor villagers and the children in picking the flints from the ploughed land and gathering them in vast heaps.

It does not appear that he made his land more productive, but his hobby was a good one for the poor of the village; the stones, too, proved useful afterwards to the road-makers, who have been using them these many years.

A few heaps almost clothed over with a turf which had formed on them in the course of eighty years were still to be seen on the land when I was there.
The following day I took no ride.