which extended soon to a considerable volume, was shown by Archbishop Warham to the King, who sent it to Sir Thomas More, desiring him to look at it. More's good sense had not yet forsaken him; he pronounced it 'a right poor production, such as any simple woman might speak of her own wit;'[1] and Henry himself 'esteemed the matter as light as it afterwards proved lewd.' But the world were less critical censors: the saintly halo was round her head, and her most trivial words caught the reflection of the glory, and seemed divine. 'Divers and many, as well great men of the realm as mean men, and many learned men, but specially many religious men, had great confidence in her, and often resorted to her.'[2] They 'consulted her much as to the will of God touching the heresies and schisms in the realm;' and when the dispute arose between the bishops and the House of Commons, they asked her what judgment there was in heaven 'on the taking away the liberties of the Church;' to which questions her answers, being dictated by her confessor, were all which the most eager Churchman could desire. Her position becoming more and more determined, the eccentric periods of her earlier visions subsided into regularity. Once a fortnight she was taken up into heaven into the presence of God and the saints, with heavenly lights, heavenly voices, heavenly melodies and joys. The place of ascent was usually the priory chapel, to which it was essential, therefore, that she should have continual access: and
