the author." These three nights produced him L400,
and he received L100 more from Griffin, the publisher, for the
publication of the play--the entire receipts being immediately, with
characteristic promptness, spent in the purchase of the lease of his
chambers in Brick Court, Middle Temple, and in handsome furniture,
consisting of "Wilton carpets, blue moreen mahogany sofas, blue moreen
curtains, chairs corresponding, chimney-glasses, Pembroke and card
tables, and tasteful book-shelves." According to Malone, one hundred
guineas remained for many years, dating from 1726, the standard price
paid by the publishers for a new play.

In addition to these "authors' nights," performances were occasionally
given for the benefit of an author suffering from adverse
circumstances. Thus, in 1733, a performance was organised at the
Haymarket Theatre for the benefit of Mr. Dennis, the critic and
dramatist. "The Provoked Husband" was represented, and Pope so far
laid aside his resentment against his old antagonist as to supply a
prologue for the occasion. Nevertheless, it was noticed that the poet
had not been able to resist the temptation of covertly sneering at the
superannuated author, and certain of the lines in the prologue were
found susceptible of a satirical application. Happily, poor Dennis,
protected by his vanity or the decay of his intelligence, perceived
nothing of this. Indeed, the poor old critic survived the benefit but
twenty days, dying in the seventy-seventh year of his age. Other
benefit performances on behalf of distressed men of letters, or their
families, have frequently been given, even in quite recent times; but
these are not to be confounded with the "authors' nights," as they
were originally understood. "Authors' nights," strictly so called,
have disappeared of late years. Modern dramatists are content to make
private arrangements in regard to their works with the managers, and
do not now publicly advance their personal claims upon the general
consideration. They may profit by an "overplus," or be paid by the
length of a "run" of their plays, or may sell them out-right at once
for a stipulated sum. The public have no knowledge of, and no concern
in, the conditions of their method of transacting business. But from
the old overplus system of the Elizabethan stage resulted those
special performances called "benefits," still known to the modern
playgoer, though now connected in his mind almost altogether with
ac