"As we lift the great curtain and push into the church, a faint perfume of incense salutes the nostrils. The golden sunset bursts in as the curtain of the (west) door sways forward, illuminates the mosaic floor, catches on the rich golden ceiling, and flashes here and there over the crowd (gathered in Epiphany), on some brilliant costume or closely shaven head. All sorts of people are thronging there, some kneeling before the shrine of the Madonna, which gleams with its hundreds of silver votive hearts, legs, and arms, some listening to the preaching, some crowding round the chapel of the _Presepio_. Old women, haggard and wrinkled, come tottering along with their _scaldini_ of coals, drop down on their knees to pray, and, as you pass, interpolate in their prayers a parenthesis of begging. The church is not architecturally handsome, but it is eminently picturesque, with its relics of centuries, its mosaic pulpits and floors, its frescoes of Pinturicchio and Pesaro, its antique columns, its rich golden ceiling, its gothic mausoleum to the Savelli, and its mediæval tombs. A dim, dingy look is over all--but it is the dimness of faded splendour; and one cannot stand there, knowing the history of the church, its great antiquity, and the varied fortunes it has known, without a peculiar sense of interest and pleasure. "It was here that Romulus in the grey dawning of Rome built the temple of Jupiter Feretrius. Here the _spolia opima_ were deposited. Here the triumphal processions of the emperors and generals ended. Here the victors paused before making their vows, until, from the Mamertine prisons below, the message came to announce that their noblest prisoner and victim--while the clang of their triumph and his defeat rose ringing in his ears, as the procession ascended the steps--had expiated with death the crime of being the enemy of Rome. On the steps of Ara-Cœli, nineteen centuries ago, the first great Cæsar climbed on his knees after his first triumph. At their base, Rienzi, the last of the Roman tribunes, fell--and if the tradition of the Church is to be trusted, it was on the site of the present high altar that Augustus erected the 'Ara Primogeniti Dei,' to commemorate the Delphic prophecy of the coming of our Saviour. Standing on a spot so thronged with memories, the dullest imagination takes fire. The forms and scenes of the past rise from their graves and pass before us, and the actual and visionary are mingled together in strange poetic confusion."--_Roba di Roma_, i. 73.