It may not be amiss at the commencement of this work, to say a few words about the profession of an undertaker, and undertakers as a class.

Among the many who have chosen

UNDERTAKING AS A PROFESSION,

and carried on the business for years, there exists a certain class who, although pecuniarily successful, do not have a very clear idea of the requisite qualities indispensable to the general make up of a first-class professional. Others seem to ignore the multitudinous duties, the performance of which will bring either credit, or blame, to themselves, according to the degree of tact or skill exhibited in the discharge thereof.

A great many have gone into the business simply because it is represented to them as a money making profession; others, because their fathers being undertakers have thought proper to train them to it, although their mercantile ideas may run in another direction. And again, some without capital will try and battle against competition, merely to make a living; but above all, there is that class of men who, entirely ignorant of the rudimentary knowledge of the business, having means, and regardless of the qualifications necessary to insure success, plunge right into it with the idea that it is a safe investment for surplus funds, a genteel employment, and one which, according to their notions, does not require any extraordinary amount of brains or labor.

Is it then a matter of astonishment if so many of our undertakers fail, or find themselves unable to cope with some more favored rival? To them it is a source of wonder, but to a discriminating public the cause is soon apparent.

It is safe to assert that every one cannot be an undertaker; in this profession, a man is more than in any other the architect of his own fortune; his success depends altogether upon his tact, skill, discrimination and untiring efforts to please those who may honor him with their trust. No small matter is it for an undertaker to perform his solemn duties with credit to himself and to the satisfaction of all present; sorrow has not so blunted all other feelings in relations and friends as to make them relax their lynx eyed vigilance of every motion of the undertaker while performing the delicate duties of his avocation.

He must be endowed with the soft touch of a woman in the handling of the dear remains; his work must be performed in silence, with soft tread and expedition; his presence in the house is a constant reminder to all of the irreparable loss which has bereft the family of one of its members.

He must be quick of perception and ready of expedients, as there is often no time left for reflection. To hesitate at times would be taken for ignorance, and prompt action is the only means at hand to retrieve himself.