The revolters in the French novel take up Parisian life, while Stephens's angelic trio join an itinerant tinker and his daughter who are journeying aimlessly about, accompanied by a cart and a sad-eyed philosopher, an ass. They engage in activities and joys not conventionally archangelic, such as smoking corn-cob pipes, eating cold potatoes, and, when necessary, stealing the potatoes. The contrasts between heavenly ideas and Irish tramp life are inimitable. At last when the three, having decided to go back to heaven, don their wings and crowns and say good-bye, the cherub turns back for one more word of farewell with Mary. Seeing her tears over his going, he tears his shining wings to shreds and casts them from him, electing to stay on earth with the tinker's cart, for the sake of love. It is really quite a demi-god-like thing to do. Unlike France's book, which is a blasting satire on religion, these two English novels are amusing, with a certain measure of satire, yet with a whimsicality that does not antagonize. France's angels remain on earth and become more corrupt than men, and Wells's wonderful visitor is banished from the village as an undesirable alien. Stephens's archangel and seraph go back to heaven after their vacation, while the cherub turns his back on immortal glory rather than break a woman's heart. In all three of these books we notice the same leveling tendency shown in characterization of the angels that we have observed heretofore in the case of ghosts and devils, werewolves, and witches. The angels are human, with charming personality and a piquant sense of humor, whose attempts to understand mortal conventions reveal the essential absurdity of earthly ideas in many instances. The three taken together constitute an interesting case of literary parallelism and it would be gratifying to discover whether France was influenced by Wells and Stephens, or Stephens by Wells and France,--but in any event Wells can prove a clear alibi as to imitation, since his novel appeared a number of years before the others. The possible inspiration for all of these in Byron's _Heaven and Earth_ suggests an interesting investigation. A more recent story, _The Ticket-of-Leave Angel_, brings an angel down to a New York apartment, where he has peculiar experiences and illustrates a new type of angelic psychology. The tendency to satirize immortality has crept even into poetry, for in a recent volume by Rupert Brooke there are several satiric studies. One, entitled _On Certain Proceedings of the Psychical Research Society_, ridicules the idea that spirits would return to earth to deliver the trivial messages attributed to them, and another, _Heaven_, is a vitriolic thrust at the hope of a better life after death, sneering at it with unpleasant imagery.