His views as to the existence of spirits on this earth are not very
logical:--

"If there is whistling among the rafters, and I take a light but fail to
see anything,--is that a spirit? It is not; for spirits are soundless.
If there is something in the room, and I look for it but cannot see
it,--is that a spirit? It is not; spirits are formless. If something
brushes against me, and I grab at, but do not seize it,--is that a
spirit? It is not; for if spirits are soundless and formless, how can
they have substance?

"If then spirits have neither sound nor form nor substance, are they
consequently non-existent? Things which have form without sound exist in
nature; for instance, earth, and stones. Things which have sound without
form exist in nature; for instance, wind, and thunder. Things which have
both sound and form exist in nature; for instance, men, and animals.
And things which have neither sound nor form also exist in nature; for
instance, disembodied spirits and angels."

For his own poetical spirit, according to the funeral elegy written
some two hundred and fifty years after his death, a great honour was
reserved:--

Above in heaven there was no music, and God was sad,
And summoned him to his place beside the Throne.

His friend and contemporary, Liu Tsung-yuan, a poet and philosopher like
himself, was tempted into the following reflections by the contemplation
of a beautiful landscape which he discovered far from the beaten