The one was the Honourable Henry Trollolop, the second Mr.Callythorpe, and the third Sir Christopher Findlater.

We will sketch them to you in an instant.
Mr.Trollolop was a short, stout gentleman, with a very thoughtful countenance,-that is to say, he wore spectacles and took snuff.
Mr.Trollolop--we delight in pronouncing that soft liquid name--was eminently distinguished by a love of metaphysics,--metaphysics were in a great measure the order of the day; but Fate had endowed Mr.Trollolop with a singular and felicitous confusion of idea.

Reid, Berkeley, Cudworth, Hobbes, all lay jumbled together in most edifying chaos at the bottom of Mr.Trollolop's capacious mind; and whenever he opened his mouth, the imprisoned enemies came rushing and scrambling out, overturning and contradicting each other in a manner quite astounding to the ignorant spectator.

Mr.Callythorpe was meagre, thin, sharp, and yellow.

Whether from having a great propensity for nailing stray acquaintances, or being particularly heavy company, or from any other cause better known to the wits of the period than to us, he was occasionally termed by his friends the "yellow hammer." The peculiar characteristics of this gentleman were his sincerity and friendship.
These qualities led him into saying things the most disagreeable, with the civilest and coolest manner in the world,--always prefacing them with, "You know, my dear so-and-so, I am your true friend." If this proof of amity was now and then productive of altercation, Mr.Callythorpe, who was ha great patriot, had another and a nobler plea,--"Sir," he would say, putting his hand to his heart,--"sir, I'm an Englishman: I know not what it is to feign." Of a very different stamp was Sir Christopher Findlater.