Josè knew that when both he and Rosendo lay sick unto death Carmen's thought had been positive, while theirs had been of the opposite sign. Was her pure thought stronger than their disbelief? Evidently so. Was this the case with Jesus? And with the prophets before him, whom the world laughed to scorn? The inference from Scripture is plain. What, then, is the overcoming of evil but the driving out of entrenched human beliefs? Again Josè came back to the thought of Principle. Confucius had said that heaven was principle. And heaven is harmony. But had evil any principle? Mankind are accustomed to speak lightly and knowingly of their "principles." But in their search for the Philosopher's Stone they have overlooked the Principle which the Master used to effect his mighty works--"that Mind which was in Christ Jesus." The Principle of Jesus was God. And, again, God is Love. The word evil is a comprehensive term, including errors of every sort. And yet, in the world's huge category of evils is there a single one that stands upon a definite principle? Josè had to admit to himself that there was not. Errors in mathematics result from ignorance of principles, or from their misapplication. But are the errors real and permanent? "Padre, when I make a mistake, and then go back and do the problem over and get it right, what becomes of the mistake?" Josè burst out laughing at the tremendous question. Carmen joined in heartily. "But, Padre," she pursued, "there are rules for solving problems; but there isn't any rule or principle for making mistakes, is there?" "Surely not, child!" Josè replied. "And if I always knew the truth about things, I couldn't make mistakes, could I?" "No." Josè waited for her further comments. They came after a brief meditation. "Well, then, God doesn't know anything about mistakes--does He?" "No, _chiquita_." "And He knows everything." "Yes." "Then, Padre dear, nobody can know anything about mistakes. People just think they can--don't they?" Josè thought hard for a few moments. "_Chiquita_, can you know that two and two are seven?" "Why, Padre dear, how funny!" "Yes--it does seem strange--now. And yet, I used to think I could know things just as absurd." "Why, what was that, Padre?" "I thought, _chiquita_, that I could know evil--something that God does not and can not know." "But--could you, Padre?" "No, child. It is absolutely impossible to know--to really _know_--error of any sort." "If we knew it, Padre, it would have a rule; or as you say, a principle, no?" "Exactly, child." "And, since God is everywhere, He would have to be its principle." "Just the point. Now take another of the problems, _chiquita_, and work on it while I think about these things," he said, assigning another of the simple tasks to the child.