If all the world

Should, in a pet of Temperance, feed on pulse,

Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze,

Th’ All-Giver would be unthank’d, would be unprais’d,

Not half His riches known, and yet despis’d;

And we should serve Him as a grudging master,

And a penurious niggard of His wealth.

Milton.

Nature, good cateress,

Means her provision only to the good,