There were Christian Fathers who found it convenient to lie, in their own behalf or in behalf of others; and it was quite natural for such mortals to seek to find an excuse for lies that "seemed so necessary" for their purposes. When Gregory of Nyssa, in his laudable effort to bring about a reconciliation between his elder brother Basil and their uncle, was "induced to practice a deceit which was as irreconcilable with Christian principles as with common sense,"[1] he was ready to argue in defense of such a course. [Footnote 1: Moore's _Life of S. Gregory of Nyssa. The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers_, second series (Am. ed.), V., 5.] So again, when his brother Basil was charged with falsehood in a comparatively "trivial" matter, (where, in fact, he had merely been in error unintentionally,) Gregory falls back upon the comforting suggestion, that as to lying, in one way or another everybody is at fault; "accordingly, we accept that general statement which the Holy Spirit uttered by the Prophet, 'Every man is a liar.'"[1] Gregory protests against the "solemn reflections on falsehood" by Eunomius, in this connection, and his seeing equal heinousness in it whether in great or very trivial matters. "Cease," he says, "to bid us think it of no account to measure the guilt of a falsehood by the slightness or importance of the circumstances." Basil, on the contrary, asserts without qualification, as his conviction, that it never is permissible to employ a falsehood even for a good purpose. He appeals to the words of Christ that all lies are of the Devil.[2] [Footnote 1: _Ibid_., p. 46.] [Footnote 2: Neander's _Geschichte der Christlichen Ethik_, p. 219.] Chrysostom, as a young man, evaded ordination for himself and secured it to his dearest friend Basil (who should not be confounded with Basil the Great, the brother of Gregory of Nyssa) by a course of deception, which he afterwards labored to justify by the claim that there were lies of necessity, and that God approved of deception as a means of good to others.[1] In the course of his exculpatory argument, he said to his much aggrieved friend Basil: "Great is the value of deceit, provided it be not introduced with a mischievous intention. In fact, action of this sort ought not to be called deceit, but rather a kind of good management, cleverness, and skill, capable of finding out ways where resources fail, and making up for the defects of the mind.... That man would fairly deserve to be called a deceiver who made an unrighteous use of the practice, not one who did so with a salutary purpose. And often it is necessary to deceive, and to do the greatest benefits by means of this device, whereas he who has gone by a straight course has done great mischief to the person whom he has not deceived."[2] [Footnote 1: See Smith and Wace's _Dictionary of Christian Biography_, I., 519 f.; art. "Chrysostom, John."]