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,