S. Gilbert, one of our most popular dramatic authors, whose wit and esprit have for so many years attracted immense audiences, was born on November 18th 1836, in Southampton Street, Strand. He first went to school under Dr. Nicholas, Great Ealing, and from there went to the London University, where he obtained  the  degree  of  B.A.  He then read for the Royal Artillery, but the Crimean War ended, and he gave up the idea of entering the Artillery and studied for the bar; and yet, while reading for the bar he became a clerk in the Privy Council (Downing Street). He was called to the bar in 1862, and, of course, had to give up the Privy Council. He joined the Northern Circuit, and realized in two years the large income of £20 in briefs. In the meantime he contributed, occasionally, articles to “Punch,” “Temple Bar,” “The Cornhill,” “Fun,” and other magazines. These articles, notably “The Bab Ballads,” were often illustrated by his own drawings, and it is a remarkable circumstance that, although he never had a lesson of any kind in drawing, he is now publishing a work consisting of all the lyrics he wrote for the operettas he conjointly brought out with Sir Arthur Sullivan, the illustrations of which are drawn by his own hand.

He first began to write for the stage in 1865 (29 years of age). His first effort was a burlesque on the “Elisir d’amore,” Donizetti’s famous opera bouffé. The way he first became connected with the stage was that T. W. Robinson, asked by Miss Herbert, then lessee of the St. James’s Theatre, to write her a Christmas piece, found he was too busy to do so, but advised her to apply to MR. GILBERT, who, at her request, undertook to write the piece in ten days. MR. GILBERT within the time agreed upon completed the burlesque, and read it to the company, which included the late Frank Matthews and Miss Carlotta Addison. At the first rehearsal the stage manager, who was none other than Henry Irving, asked the young author did he know anything about stage managing, for he (Irving) was quite inexperienced in the matter. “Well,” said GILBERT, “I have no experience either, but I have my ideas on the subject,” and he accordingly set to work as a novice in what has since become one of his great accomplishments. The piece, produced in such a hurry that there was no time to discuss terms, had a great success, and a fortnight after its production Mr. Emden, the treasurer, asked the author, “Now, what are we to pay you for this piece?” he replied, “Fifty pounds.” “Oh,” said the manager, “Too much; can’t give you more than thirty.” “Very well,” said GILBERT, “let it be thirty.” “Here,” said Mr. Emden, “is your cheque, and if you will oblige me with a receipt, I’ll give you a piece of advice.” The receipt was given, and Mr. Emden said, “The piece of advice is this: Never again sell so good a piece for thirty pounds.” I need scarcely say that the advice was scrupulously followed. The piece ran about a hundred nights, and was followed by burlesques on the “Bohemian Girl,” “La Figlia del Reggimento,” “Norma,” etc.

He then wrote in rapid succession a libretto for Fred Clay, called “A Gentleman in Black,” another called “Princess Toto,” and a number of pieces for German Reed. The first more marked success was a burlesque on Tennyson’s “Princess,” distinguished from the ordinary run of burlesques of that time by more refined dialogue and witty points, the aurora of what afterwards constituted the style so peculiar to W. S. GILBERT. This was followed by “The Palace of Truth,” at the Haymarket, which ran 250 nights; then came “Pygmalion and Galatea,” which ran some 400 nights. “The Wicked World,” which ran 200 nights, was the next comedy. In fact, his series of dramatic works, not quite complete, but very nearly so, runs as follows: “An Old Score,” 1868; “The Princess,” 1869; “The Palace of Truth,” 1870; “Pygmalion and Galatea,” 1871; “Randall’s Thumb,” 1872; “On Guard,” 1873; “The Wicked World,” 1873; “Charity,” 1874; “Tom Cobb,” 1875; and in the same year “Broken Hearts”; “Trial by Jury,” 1876; in the same year “Dan’l Druce” and “Sweethearts”; then “Engaged,” 1877; and “The Sorcerer” and “Pinafore,” 1878; “Gretchen,” 1879; and “The Pirates of Penzance” in 1880; “Patience” in 1881; “Iolanthe,” in 1883; “Princess Ida,” in 1885; “Comedy and Tragedy,” 1885; “Mikado,” 1886; “Ruddigore,” 1888; “Yeomen of the Guard,” 1888, and “Brantinghame Hall,” 1889. His first collaboration with Sullivan was in “Thespis,” produced at the Gaiety in 1873 by Hollingshead, who commissioned them to write a piece together, and therefrom dates the whole series of more or less brilliant successes which constitute the whole library of the Savoy Theatre career, under the Comedy Opera Company, formed by D’Oyly Carte for the purpose of producing the works written by those two renowned authors (1877).

After the production of “H.M.S. Pinafore,” which ran two years, the Comedy Opera Company, Limited, was dissolved, and Mr. D’Oyly Carte built the Savoy Theatre for the express purpose of producing Operas written by SIR A. SULLIVAN and MR. GILBERT, and entered into an arrangement with them for a series, which has now extended over a period of nearly twelve years. “Patience” was the first piece produced under the new regime, and it ran for nineteen months. After “Patience” came “Iolanthe,” which ran fifteen months; then “Princess Ida,” which ran ten months; then the “Mikado,” which ran twenty months; “Ruddigore” which ran ten months, and the “Yeomen of the Guard,” which has already reached its sixth month, and is still running. It is remarkable that a piece of GILBERT’S, “The Vagabond” (1879), for whatever reason, was hooted off the stage, the yelling and shouting being such that not a word of the third act could be heard in the house. This is the black dot on a butterfly’s brilliant wing. Another misfortune befell one of his best pieces. “Foggerty’s Fairy,” which was given with immense effect on the first night at the Criterion, but on the second night the news came of the burning of the Vienna Theatre, which caused such a panic which affected all the London theatres more or less, and as public opinion pointed (most unreasonably) to the Criterion as a theatre from which, if it caught fire, escape would be practically impossible, no one ventured into it, and the piece had to be withdrawn after three weeks’ run.