It is at the top of these steps, that the monks of Ara-Cœli, who are celebrated as dentists, perform their hideous, but useful and gratuitous operations, which may be witnessed here every morning!

Over the side entrance of Ara-Cœli is a beautiful mosaic of the Virgin and Child. This, with the ancient brick arches above, framing fragments of deep blue sky—and the worn steps below—forms a subject dear to Roman artists, and is often introduced as a background to groups of monks and peasants. The interior of the church is vast, solemn, and highly picturesque. It was here, as Gibbon himself tells us, that on the 15th of October, 1764, as he sat musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol, while the bare-footed friars were singing vespers, the idea of writing the "Decline and Fall" of the city first started to his mind.

"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.

The floor of the church is of the ancient mosaic known as Opus Alexandrinum. The nave is separated from the aisles by twenty-two ancient columns, of which two are of cipollino, two of white marble, and eighteen of Egyptian granite. They are of very different forms and sizes, and have probably been collected from various pagan edifices. The inscription "A Cubiculo Augustorum" upon the third column on the left of the nave, shows that it was brought from the Palace of the Cæsars. The windows in this church are amongst the few in Rome which show traces of gothic. At the end of the nave, on either side, are two ambones, marking the position of the choir before it was extended to its present site in the sixteenth century.

The transepts are full of interesting monuments. That on the right is the burial-place of the great family of Savelli, and contains—on the left, the monument of Luca Savelli, 1266 (father of Pope Honorius IV.) and his son Pandolfo,—an ancient and richly sculptured sarcophagus, to which a gothic canopy was added by Agostino and Agnolo da Siena from designs of Giotto. Opposite, is the tomb of the mother of Honorius, Vana Aldobrandesca, upon which is the statue of the pope himself, removed from his monument in the old St. Peter's by Paul III.

On the left of the high altar is the tomb of Cardinal Gianbattista Savelli, ob. 1498, and near it—in the pavement, the half-effaced gravestone of Sigismondo Conti, whose features are so familiar to us from his portrait introduced into the famous picture of the Madonna di Foligno, which was painted by Raphael at his order, and presented by him to this church, where it remained over the high altar, till 1565, when his great niece Anna became a nun at the convent of the Contesse at Foligno, and was allowed to carry it away with her. In the east transept is another fine gothic tomb, that of Cardinal Matteo di Acquasparta (1302), a General of the Franciscans mentioned by Dante for his wise and moderate rule.[46] The quaint chapel in the middle of this transept, now dedicated to St. Helena, is supposed to occupy the site of the "Ara Primogeniti Dei."

Upon the pier near the ambone of the gospel is the monument of Queen Catherine of Bosnia, who died at Rome in 1478, bequeathing her states to the Roman Church on condition of their reversion to her son, who had embraced Mahommedanism, if he should return to the Catholic faith. Near this, upon the transept wall, is the tomb of Felice de Fredis, ob. 1529, upon which it is recorded that he was the finder of the Laocoon. The Chapel of the Annunciation, opening from the west isle, has a tomb to G. Crivelli, by Donatello, bearing his signature, "Opus Donatelli Florentini." The Chapel of Santa Croce is the burial-place of the Ponziani family, and was the scene of the celebrated ecstasy of the favourite Roman saint Francesca Romana.

"The mortal remains of Vanozza Ponziani (sister-in-law of Francesca) were laid in the church of Ara-Cœli, in the chapel of Santa Croce. The Roman people resorted there in crowds to behold once more their loved benefactress—the mother of the poor, the consoler of the afflicted. All strove to carry away some little memorial of one who had gone about among them doing good, and during the three days which preceded the interment, the concourse did not abate. On the day of the funeral Francesca knelt on one side of the coffin, and, in sight of all the crowd, she was wrapped in ecstasy. They saw her body lifted from the ground, and a seraphic expression in her uplifted face. They heard her murmur several times with an indescribable emphasis the word 'Quando? Quando?' When all was over, she still remained immoveable; it seemed as if her soul had risen on the wings of prayer, and followed Vanozza's spirit into the realms of bliss. At last her confessor ordered her to rise and go and attend on the sick. She instantly complied, and walked away to the hospital which she had founded, apparently unconscious of everything about her, and only roused from her trance by the habit of obedience, which, in or out of ecstasy, never forsook her."—Lady Georgiana Fullerton's Life of Sta. Fr. Romana.

There are several good pictures over the altars in the aisles of Ara-Cœli. In the Chapel of St Margaret of Cortona are frescoes illustrative of her life by Filippo Evangelisti,—in that of S. Antonio, frescoes by Nicola da Pesaro;—but no one should omit visiting the first chapel on the right of the west door, dedicated to S. Bernardino of Siena, and painted by Bernardino Pinturicchio, who has put forth his best powers to do honour to his patron saint with a series of exquisite frescoes, representing his assuming the monastic habit, his preaching, his vision of the Saviour, his penitence, death, and burial.