Mr. Franklin

Benjamin Franklin once expressed the humorous hope that, by being embalmed in wine, he might come to life in the future "and observe the state of America . . . my dear country." Had his wish been fulfilled, Old Printer Franklin would have found America churning out printed matter beyond his wildest dreams (or fears). At present, he would have found a good deal of that printed matter devoted to himself, for this month marks the 250th anniversary of his birth. Among the month's Franklin literature:

BEN FRANKLIN--AN AFFECTIONATE PORTRAIT, by Nelson Beecher Keyes (Hanover House; $2.95), is a kindly, perhaps too uncritical biography which will do for youngsters who may some day want to know more.

BEN FRANKLIN'S PRIVATEERS, by William Bell Clark (Louisiana State University; $3.75), is a brief account of Franklin's efforts, as an American commissioner in France, to capture British seamen who could be exchanged for American prisoners held in England. His privateers, based on French ports, didn't get very far, but Author Clark had better get to the historical novel he has outlined in this book, or somebody else will.

JOURNAL OF THE FRANKLIN INSTITUTE devotes an entire issue ($1) to an elaboration of the ideas concerning science and society which Franklin elaborated with elementary but nice two-plus-two clairvoyance.

THE SECRET WAR OF INDEPENDENCE, by Helen Augur (Duell, Sloan & Pearce --Little, Brown; $4.75), details Franklin's efforts to supply the American colonies under the nose of the world's greatest maritime power.

MR. FRANKLIN--A SELECTION FROM His PERSONAL LETTERS (Yale University; $3.75), is a charming handful of Franklin letters (see box), beautifully printed, selected from the thousands which will make up the definitive edition (partly financed by TIME Inc.) now being prepared at Yale University.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, by Carl Van Doren (Viking; $4.95), is a reissue of what is still the best of all books about Benjamin Franklin, a Pulitzer Prize biography that saw Ben plain, as few Americans have been seen by their biographers. Looming over all these, there is Ben Franklin's own Autobiography (available in everything from a 35-c- Pocket Book to Heritage's $5 edition), which, according to Van Doren, has seen more editions in the U.S. than any book save the Bible.

Critics, editorialists and pleaders of all kinds are having a field day with the Franklin works. Over the centuries, he has Deen claimed by atheists and believers, liberals and conservatives, good fellows and fellow travelers, Prohibitionists and wets--the wets, incidentally, pointing to Franklin's remarkable argument that God made the joints of the arm just long enough to carry a glass to the mouth without missing the mark. He had his era's versatility, the tinkering curiosity, the sublime belief in the answerability of all questions--but all that with a Philadelphia accent of thrift and humor. Even crusty New Englander John Adams, seemingly too patrician to accept a self-made boy at his true worth, had to admit: "There was scarcely a peasant or a citizen, a valet de chambre, coachman or footman, a lady's chambermaid or a scullion in a kitchen, who ... did not consider him a friend to human kind."

Franklin earned the world's respect for himself and his young country by the simple process of being his commonsensical self. And common sense is the quality that shines in all the Franklin works, from Poor Richard's early-to-bed, early-to-rise almanac platitudes to his witty letters. Yet Franklin's "dear country" needs, in the 20th century, more than common sense--and there is more than that to be found in Franklin's life and writings. It took more than common sense--namely, guts--to face the wigs of 18th-century Europe in a fur cap. It took more (or perhaps less) than common sense--namely, a theatrical flair--to allow the great ladies of the French court to crown his balding head with a laurel wreath. It took more than common sense--namely, faith and knowledge--to stand before the House of Commons and make a case for the fantastic proposition that 13 small colonies could hold out against the commercial and military might of the British Empire, rather than submit to unfair taxes.

Franklin embodied the Enlightenment, and in mankind's memory that age has been often degraded by its heirs. But Franklin, in his special way, combined the Enlightenment with American lightning. That was his achievement--and that is why he still makes remarkably good reading.

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