“Mater et filia Du bist, Jungfraw Maria. Wir weren all verloren Per nostra crimina, So hat sy uns erworben Celorum gaudia. Eya, wär’n wir da, Eya, wär’n wir da!” which was either omitted in the post-Reformation versions, or there was substituted: “O Patris charitas, O Nati lenitas! Wir weren all verloren Per nostra crimina, So hat Er uns erworben Cœlorum gaudia. Eya, wär’n wir da, Eya, wär’n wir da.”(77) Nor was direct simple evangelical instruction lacking. Friedrich Mecum (known better by his Latinised name of Myconius), who was born in 1491, relates how his father, a substantial burgher belonging to Lichtenfels in Upper Franconia, instructed him in religion while he was a child. “My dear father,” he says, “had taught me in my childhood the Ten Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Creed, and constrained me to pray always. For, said he, ‘Everything comes to us from God alone, and that _gratis_, free of cost, and He will lead us and rule us, if we only diligently pray to Him.’ ” We can trace this simple evangelical family religion away back through the Middle Ages. In the wonderfully interesting Chronicle of Brother Salimbene of the Franciscan Convent of Parma, which comes from the thirteenth century, we are told how many of the better-disposed burghers of the town came to the convent frequently to enjoy the religious conversation of Brother Hugh. On one occasion the conversation turned upon the mystical theology of Abbot Giaocchino di Fiore. The burghers professed to be greatly edified, but said that they hoped that on the next evening Brother Hugh would confine himself to telling them the _simple words of Jesus_.