Up to within the last forty years it was quite sufficient for a member of Parliament to inform the Speaker that he "espied strangers" for the galleries to be instantly cleared. On April 27, 1875, however, the cantankerous and obstructive Mr. Biggar brought this rule into disrepute by calling the Speaker's attention to the Strangers' Gallery at a time when its occupants included the Prince of Wales and the German Ambassador. In accordance with the regulations of the House, these distinguished visitors were compelled to leave forthwith. This quite gratuitous act of discourtesy on the part of an extremely unpopular member was little to the taste of the House. The sentiments of the majority were aptly voiced by Disraeli when he begged Mr. Biggar to bear in mind that the House was above all things "an assembly of gentlemen." On the Prime Minister's motion, carried by a unanimous vote, the Standing Order relative to the exclusion of strangers was temporarily suspended, and the galleries reopened. A resolution of Disraeli's was eventually adopted whereby strangers could only be compelled to withdraw on a division in favour of their exclusion, no debate or amendment being permitted; though it was still left to the discretion of the Speaker or Chairman to order their withdrawal at any time and from any part of the House, if necessary. Visitors to the House of Commons enter by St Stephen's porch, where, until recently, they were interrogated by the police constable on duty. If their answers proved satisfactory, they were admitted to the Central Hall, whence they dispatched printed cards inscribed with their names, addresses, and the object of their visit, to such members as they desired to see. The duty of ministering to the needs of friends who were anxious to listen to the debates was one of the minor discomforts of membership. There is a story of a member of Parliament receiving a letter from a constituent asking for a pass to the Speaker's Gallery or, if that were impossible, six tickets to the Zoological Gardens. The natural inference to be gathered from this request must be that the House of Commons, which Lord Brougham once likened to a menagerie, is capable of affording six times as much entertainment as the monkey-house in Regent's Park.