Matters went on in this way from bad to worse, the son becoming more and more discontented and uneasy. He listened to the tales of travellers who had been to distant lands and over the sea till his blood boiled, and he said to himself: “Shall I never see anything but these same hills and valleys? Shall I never hear any discourse but about sheep and goats and fleeces of wool and cheese and barley? Shall I never see anything of the great world of which I hear so much? Must I stay here and milk goats when there is so much pleasure in the world to be enjoyed?” But now the time draws near when he shall be of age and his own master to go where he pleases. How he has been counting the days and reckoning up the time when he shall escape the restraints of home! No sooner has the time arrived than he goes to his father and says to him, “Father, give me so much of your property as belongs to me, my share.” He does not ask it as a gift, but as a debt which the father was under obligations to pay him. What right had he to demand anything of the father? Had it been his elder brother who made this demand, who for many years after he was of age had labored hard and given the proceeds of his labor into the common stock, there would have been some justice in the request. But this man had never done anything, had spent all he could get, had tried his father to the utmost, and now had the assurance to come to his father and say: “Such a part of the property belongs to me. I want it, that I may go where I like and spend it as I wish.” He had been so long in the habit of receiving from his father without effort of his own that he had come to consider it as a matter of right.
The father was pained by this ungrateful conduct, and the prodigal in his own heart felt ashamed of himself; in the bottom of his heart he loved and respected his father, but the love of pleasure, his lofty imaginations of the enjoyments to be found in the world of which he had read, heard, and dreamed so much, overpowered all other feelings. Could he only escape from the restraints of home and obtain money and means to gratify his desires, he should be happy. The father without any reproach divides his living and gives to him his share. He has never seen so much money before in his life. He is mad with joy. He thinks it will never be exhausted. He can hardly stop to bid good-by to his family, to his father whose heart aches to see this son of his love so glad to leave him. He takes his journey into a far country, just as far from home as he can get, that his friends may not be able to know what he is doing or to trouble him with advice. He’s had advice enough. He’s had enough of home. He’s going to try the world. Now he gives loose rein to all his lusts. He is soon surrounded by a circle of generous, jovial companions who would die for him; who every day pledge him health and happiness in the social glass; who, so far from troubling him with advice, tell him he is a noble-hearted, princely fellow, and that everything he says and does is just right. How much better they are than his father’s old, stupid, hard-working servants, or than his sober brother who thought only of sheep and begrudged him every cent, or than his father who was always telling him about the temptations of life! These noble, large-hearted fellows tell him money is made to spend and life is made to enjoy.