There is nothing more pathetic than a man, which measures all up and down, trying, as the poet says, “to measure the expanse of land, the land down under”, to solve the mystery surrounding the souls of his people, but unaware that it is enough to communicate only with their inner genius and honest service to him. The latter is to save, by his passion, desperation and dissatisfaction with the affairs of gods and men. Cases venerable gods by their perfection, the affairs of men kind to us by virtue of kinship with them. But sometimes the past excite some sort of pity, when they manifest ignorance of good and evil - the ugliness is not less than the inability to distinguish between black and white.