The mortuary advertisements are not absolutely a transition "from praying to purse-taking;" only a variety of the same general mode of dealing. We select two of these:--In the first, we behold a lady in the full-dress evening costume of the Empire, with a very short waist, and very little drapery above it, leaning pensively against a funereal monument; an embroidered pocket-handkerchief being placed beneath one elbow, to protect it from the cold marble; in her left hand she carries a substantial wooden cross, which is held so as to fall over the shoulder; a weeping willow on the opposite side to the mourning lady balances the composition. Below the picture is the announcement that "Funereal letters (_Esquelas de Funerales_) of every tasteful description, engraved as well as lithographic, and at a very moderate price, are to be obtained at the printing-office of the Mercantile Gazette, in the street of Cangallo, No. 75, where designs of all kinds maybe seen." The second is more sombre in outward show, but less applicable to the general business of the advertiser. It is headed, "Interesting to all whom it may concern." (_Interesante à quienes conguenga._) We have here a very black tree, a very black tombstone, and a very black sky; the outline of the two former relieved by gleams of light from a very full moon; and having gazed our fill on these melancholy objects, are told that--"In the street of Victory, at No. 63-1/2, at all hours of the day, an individual is to be met with who undertakes to supply every description of cards or notes of invitation, whether for funerals or any other kind of entertainment; he undertakes at the same time to serve those gentlemen who may honor him with their orders, with the very best goods, &c.," after the approved fashion of advertisers all over the globe. Natural history affords the Buenos-Ayreans great scope for their artistical genius. Don Federico Costa announces a grand spectacle of wild beasts; and that there may be no mistake about what he has to show, he heralds his collections with the full-length portrait of an Uran-utan (_Orangutan_), which he describes as a native of Africa. This interesting animal is seated on a bank, with a large stick in one hand, looking over his shoulder, and displays an endless amount of fingers and toes; the greater the number, the nearer, in Don Federico's opinion, the creature's approach to humanity. There is a wonderful bit of shadow thrown from one of the Uran-utan's legs, which puts one in mind of the footprint that so startled Robinson Crusoe; and, indeed, the general appearance of the animal is not unlike some of the earlier portraits of that renowned mariner, only nature has done for the Uran-utan what art and goat-skins accomplished for the solitary of Juan Fernandez.