It is even rather artfully worked out--the selfish gabble of John Thorpe, who may look to superficial observers like a mere outsider, playing an important part _twice_ in the evolution.

There is not lavish but amply sufficient description and scenery--the Bath vignettes, especially the Beechencliff prospect; the sketch of the Abbey itself and of Henry's parsonage, etc.
But it is in the other two constituents that the blowing of the new wind of the spirit is most perceptible.

The character-drawing is simply wonderful, especially in the women--though the men lack nothing.

John Thorpe has been glanced at--there had been nothing like him before, save in Fielding and in the very best of the essayists and dramatists.
General Tilney has been found fault with as unnatural and excessive: but only by people who do not know what "harbitrary gents" fathers of families, who were not only squires and members of parliament, but military men, could be in the eighteenth century--and perhaps a little later.

His son Henry, in common with most of his author's _jeunes premiers_, has been similarly objected to as colourless.