In view, therefore, of the actual character of preëxisting Christianity, and of the methods employed in converting the people, how can one reasonably suppose that the "instant conversion of the whole of Armenia to Christianity can not be explained but by the preëxistence of a Christian element which had taken root in the country"? The state-authorized religion, however, did take root in the country, and became inextricably interwoven with the self-consciousness of the nation. It became the organ of national expression, and for many centuries has been the very backbone of the people. If the molten metals of national life had hardened during the reign of the Arsacidae kings they were at the time of the conversion in a molten state, ready to be remolded. This did not require much time. Old festivals were carried over intact, except that they were given a new meaning. The old national traditions, legends, and folk-lore were in the common possession of the people, and there was no reason for discouraging them. In fact the Armenian church even more than the state encouraged them, for it recognized in them a source of solidarity and national unity, as essential to the life of the church as its hierarchies, liturgy, and calendar of saints. So much then was old; part of the past carried over into the present to be carried over into the future. What then was new? First the legends and traditions, already mentioned, imbedded in the immediately past events of the new order. Legends of Abgar, of Gregory, of Thaddeus, of Rhipsime, of Tiridates, passed like magic fire from person to person, creating a common sentiment which made the foundations of the new church absolutely secure. How firmly this foundation was established is indicated by the reaction of the church to the decisions at the Council of Chalcedon, where the dogma of the dual nature of Christ was affirmed, in perfect contradiction to the Nicæan dogma, and by the reaction against the Persian proposals to accept fire-worship as the state religion.