On the 16th of June 1821, John Ballantyne died at Edinburgh. Until a week or two before, Sir Walter had not entertained any thought that his end was so near. “I (Lockhart) accompanied Sir Walter when one of their last interviews took place, and John’s deathbed was a thing not to be forgotten. We sat by him for perhaps an hour, and I think half that space was occupied with his predictions of a speedy end, and details of his last will, which he had just been executing, and which lay on his coverlid; the other half being given, five minutes or so at a time, to questions and remarks, which intimated that the hope of life was still flickering before him—nay, that his interest in all its concerns remained eager. The proof-sheets of a volume of his Novelists’ Library lay also by his pillow; and he passed from them to his will, and then back to them, as by jerks and starts the unwonted veil of gloom closed upon his imagination, or was withdrawn again.... Scott was visibly and profoundly shaken by this scene and sequel. As we stood together a few days afterwards, while they were smoothing the turf over John’s remains in the Canongate Churchyard, the heavens, which had been dark and slaty, cleared up suddenly, and the midsummer sun shone forth in his strength. Scott, ever awake to the skyey influences, cast his eye along the overhanging line of the Calton Hill, with its gleaming walls and towers, and then turning to the grave again, ‘I feel,’ he whispered in my ear, ‘I feel as if there would be less sunshine for me from this day forth.’ “As we walked homewards, Scott told me, among other favourable traits of his friend, one little story which I must not omit. He remarked one day to a poor student of divinity attending his auction, that he looked as if he were in bad health. The young man assented with a sigh. ‘Come,’ said Ballantyne, ‘I think I ken the secret of a sort of draft that would relieve you—particularly,’—he added, handing him a cheque for £5 or £10—‘particularly, my dear, if taken upon an empty stomach.’”[25] In the “Noctes Ambrosianæ” (vol. iii. pp. 93-95), there is the following tribute to the memory of John Ballantyne:— _Shepherd._ Johnny Ballantyne!