The first of the dramas is called "Royal Beneficence, or the Emperor Alexander," and is founded on an event which occurred to his Russian Majesty, on the banks of the Wilna, where he restored a drowning young man by the means prescribed by the Humane Society, which means of restoration are published with the play--evidently with the best intentions. Mr. Plumptree offered this piece to Covent Garden and to Drury Lane, but it was by both rejected; then Mr. Hindes, the manager of the Norwich playhouse, had the refusal of it; but he, like the London proprietors, objected to its appearance because a living character was introduced. Mr. Plumptree reasons very fairly upon the futility of this excuse, and prints the detail of the Emperor's indefatigable exertions, upon which his play is founded, together with many other interesting documents concerning the valuable charity to which the piece is dedicated. The drama is full of interest and good feeling; and although, in the present state of the stage, there is, perhaps, a want of bustle, still the affecting incident at the end of the first act, where the dead body of the hero is dragged out of the water, and stripped upon the stage, under the immediate inspection of the Emperor, who says,-- "Lose no time in fruitless ceremony: this is our duty now; strip off his clothes; wipe him dry, and rub about his heart, his temples, wrists, and everywhere,"-- appears to us likely to have produced a great sensation in a British audience. We must say, that the rejection of such a piece by the London managers reflects equally upon their taste and delicacy. The next drama is called "Winter," and is founded upon the story of Elizabeth Woodcock, who was buried in the snow for upwards of a week, and is extremely pretty. "The Force of Conscience," a tragedy, follows, which ends with the execution of Mr. Morris, a blacksmith, on the new drop, during which awful ceremony he is assisted in prayer by the Rev. Mr. Jones; the spectators make comments, and the culprit his last dying speech, when the drop, or rather the curtain, falls, which ends "the strange eventful history." The next play is called "Mrs. Jordan and the Methodist," and is founded upon a benevolent action (one of many) performed by that incomparable actress. We have too much affection for her memory to make a single comment upon Mr. Plumptree's delicate attempt to commemorate her good qualities. The next is a comedy, called "The Salutary Reproof, or the Butcher!" from which we intend to make a few extracts, in order to give a fair specimen of Mr. Plumptree's dramatic talent and virtuous intentions; and we certainly do hope that one of the London theatres will afford the town an opportunity of judging for themselves the benefits likely to arise to their morals by such representations, without any curtailment of their amusement.