Law (n.) is really what benefits, so a city obeying ancestral custom against its own good can break the law while looking most law-abiding.
Law (n.) and order are what the goddess imposes on our pleasures, since wickedness knows no limit; Philebus calls it their ruin, Socrates their salvation.
Law (n.) is the name for the soul's order, as health is the name for the body's; what it produces in people is justice and self-control.
Law (n.) that is badly made is not really law at all: lawmakers who fail to make it good for the city have failed to make it lawful.
Law (n.) is worth any risk: alone on the presiding committee, Socrates voted against the people's illegal mass trial of the generals while the crowd shouted for his arrest.
Law (n.) written by one who believes it embodies clear knowledge of lasting importance earns its author reproach, even if the crowd praises it with one voice — he cannot tell a dream-image from the reality of the just.
Law (n.) is not concerned to make any one class outstandingly happy but to spread happiness through the city, using the philosophers it produces to bind the city together, not letting them turn wherever they want.