Butterflies of Good and Evil Omen
In Japan the butterfly was at one time considered to be the soul of a living man or woman. If it entered a guest-room and pitched behind the bamboo screen it was a sure sign that the person whom it represented would shortly appear in the house. The presence of a butterfly in the house was regarded as a good omen, though of course everything depended on the individual typified by the butterfly.
The butterfly was not always the harbinger of good. When Taira-no-Masakado was secretly preparing for a revolt Kyōto was the scene of a swarm of butterflies, and the people who saw them were much frightened. Lafcadio Hearn suggests that these butterflies may have been the spirits of those fated to fall in battle, the spirits of the living who were stirred by a premonition of the near approach of death. Butterflies may also be the souls of the dead, and they often appear in this form in order to announce their final leave-taking from the body.
"The Flying Hairpin of Kochō"
The Japanese drama contains reference to the ghostly significance of butterflies. In the play known as The Flying Hairpin of Kochō, the heroine, Kochō, kills herself on account of false accusations and cruel treatment. Her lover seeks to discover who has been the cause of her untimely death. Eventually Kochō's hairpin turns into a butterfly and hovers over the hiding-place of the villain who has caused all the trouble.
The White Butterfly
There is a quaint and touching Japanese legend connected with the butterfly. An old man named Takahama lived in a little house behind the cemetery of the temple of Sōzanji. He was extremely amiable and generally liked by his neighbours, though most of them considered him to be a little mad. His madness, it would appear, entirely rested upon the fact that he had never married or evinced desire for intimate companionship with women.
One summer day he became very ill, so ill, in fact, that he sent for his sister-in-law and her son. They both came and did all they could to bring comfort during his last hours. While they watched Takahama fell asleep; but he had no sooner done so than a large white butterfly flew into the room, and rested on the old man's pillow. The young man tried to drive it away with a fan; but it came back three times, as if loth to leave the sufferer.
At last Takahama's nephew chased it out into the garden, through the gate, and into the cemetery beyond, where it lingered over a woman's tomb, and then mysteriously disappeared. On examining the tomb the young man found the name "Akiko" written upon it, together with a description narrating how Akiko died when she was eighteen. Though the tomb was covered with moss and must have been erected fifty years previously, the boy saw that it was surrounded with flowers, and that the little water-tank had been recently filled.