Imagine assembling over 300 missionaries, mission leaders and professors of missions to ask them any question you wanted. Now imagine that they addressed over 1400 topics. This new encyclopedic dictionary has done just that. With 700 topical articles, almost 500 short biographical articles, and hundreds of country profiles, the Evangelical Dictionary of World Missions is a veritable goldmine of up-to-date information on missions.

The authors include people from East and West, North and South; practioners and teachers. All have written in non-technical vocabulary and evaluate their assigned topic(s) in light of evangelical thought. The book is decidedly Christian and missiological in tone.

There are short bibliographical notes at the end of many articles and a good indexing system.

Dive in anywhere and enjoy the learning experience.

Rather than presenting just another account of the infamous Cope-Marsh "fossil war," Wallace has placed the conflict in a journalistic context, exploring the role New York Herald editor/huckster James Gordon Bennett played in the animosity between the two great paleontologists. A wonderfully detailed and readable book, with only a very small number of minor scientific errors to detract from its value. This probably won't be remembered as the definitive work on the subject, but it's a good place to start.

This marvelous volume by David Rains Wallace is a balanced, thorough, and insightful recounting of the greatest, most needless, and most tragic scientific conflict in American history: the Cope-Marsh feud. I say "balanced" because most writers, especially those with an environmentalist/naturalist bent like Wallace, have tended to side with Othniel C. Marsh over Edward D. Cope. The reason isn't hard to find. Cope's feud with Marsh eventually [pulled] into the controversy John Wesley Powell, a major benefactor to Marsh and impediment to Cope, and occasioned Powell's fall from power. Environmentalists rightly consider this a tragedy, because perhaps no one in American history possessed the depth of understanding about the geological and geographical logic of the entire area west of the hundredth meridian than Powell. Had Powell remained in power longer, perhaps many of the great tragedies associated with the development of the American West could have been avoided. Most other evaluators of the feud tend to be biographers of either Cope or Marsh, and those side with their subject. But Wallace is able to look beyond the effect the Cope-Marsh feud's effect on Powell and beyond partisan loyalty to any single participant to achieve a fair evaluation of each.

Wallace begins with a biographical narrative of both Cope and Marsh, from their family origins and early interest in science, to their maturation as paleontologists and their initial encounters with one another, and on to their growing competition with one another and eventual implacable conflicts and feud. Wallace shows how this really was not primarily a scientific controversy, but a conflict between two very different personalities. Both men were exceedingly gifted, both immensely competitive, and both were extremely neurotic. Of the two, Cope emerges as the more sympathetic, if only because he strikes the reader as the more likable of the two. Marsh is less sympathetic because of the ruthless way he attempts to cut Cope off from all governmental support for his research, and the manner in which he attempts to keep Cope, who was probably the more gifted paleontologist, on the scientific periphery. In fact, Marsh comes across as a completely unlikable person; not even his closest acquaintances seem to have liked him. If Cope emerges as more congenial, he also comes across as more manic, more paranoid, and obsessed.

In the end, one is left with a feeling of disgust at both Marsh (especially Marsh) and Cope's massive stupidity in the entire conflict. Although they had some scientific disagreements, most of their antagonism was generated by who was able to get the most fossils, and the efforts of Marsh to cut Cope completely out of government funding. One is left with a sense of regret that the two great founders of American paleontology were unable to coordinate their efforts and be collaborators instead of competitors.

Anyone enjoying this book might also enjoy Deborah Cadbury's TERRIBLE LIZARD, which tells the story of the birth of paleontology in England at the beginning of the 19th century, a few decades before Cope and Marsh. Sadly, that book also tells the story of a needless feud, with Gideon Mantell taking the Cope role and Richard Owen the Marsh one. The two books make great companion volumes, and jointly make a magnificent introduction to 19th century paleontology.

"Radio Priest" is meant to remind people the author fears have both forgotten Father Charles Coughlin and may be unwisely underestimating those eager to apply his brand of media manipulation in the age of the internet. From the depths of the depression until shortly after America's entry into WWII, Coughlin, a Detroit Priest had become a political force of nature. Using his radio show and "Social Justice" his newspaper, he spread his message across the nation - a message that grew progressively overt in anti-Semitism and Facist advocacy. With the severity of the depression destroying lives across the world, the time was ripe for many to question democracy - as they had across the world, the popularity of socialism and fascism flourished across America. Though many figures grew out of the clash of these movements, Coughlin stood out - mostly because his position as a priest but mostly because of the eloquence with which he gave his fans the message they wanted to hear. He even possessed his own trademark accent, with its distinctive rolling rrr's. Coughlin attacked banking interests and polticians - codewords for the jews and those they were thought to have bought. Confronted with growing reports of Germany's anti-Semitic repression, he claimed sympathy for the jews, but attributed Germany's conduct to a natural response to Jewish Bolshevism. Ostensibly adhering to a religion which had suffered religious intolerance, Coughlin adopted the same penchant for mass hysteria as those who had victimized other Catholics.

Though war with fascism forced him into a sort of hiatus, Coughlin's decline had actually begun with the 1936 Presidential Elections. Unsatisfied with GOP front-runner Alf Landon, and seized by an outright hatred for FDR, Coughlin campaigned fiercely for the Social Justice candidate, William Lemke. Those left unfulfilled by FDR and unimpressed with Landon, flocked to Coughlin and his allies. Among them, Francis Townsend seemed more dignified, GLK Smith had more energy and Huey Long had more savvy, but Coughlin possessed something of the qualities of all three. Though Coughlin had the power, he displayed little interest in using it for even his idea of a greater good, and the social justice ticket ballot was dwarfed even by Landon's showing. By then, Long was dead by an assassin's bullet, and his political machine in Louisiana collapsed under the weight of its own corruption. Emboldened by his landslide, FDR embarked on a strategy to fast-track the New Deal with legislation designed to end run a hostile supreme court and thinly veiled threats to pack the high court if the first idea didn't work out. Coughlin, on the other hand, now embittered with politics, lost much of his dignified veneer. Both in his own tone and those of his followers, Coughlin became more closely identified with all that was bigoted in domestic fascism. By 1940, Coughlin had been sufficiently cut down to manageable size for his own church's hierarchy, and the Bishops silenced him. The threat of prosecution for sedition further kept him in line.

Doanld Warren argues persuasively that Coughlin's defeats - both in 1936 and when war broke out against those he had championed - were far from certain. Coughlin and others had long fed anti-Semitic hysteria in their warnings against the war. When the severity of the war was realized, hysteria against the Jews could have exploded in Coughlin's favor. Warren even cites outbreaks of anti-Jewish violence in American cities. Further, despite the consent decree that immunized Coughlin in return for his silence, the radio priest remained active in using the mail system to search for a new generation of adherents among wartime servicemen. Warren highlights the depths of anti-Semitism in wartime America, but doesn't do the same for the horrific conditions of the depression - conditions that made us ripe for Coughlin and his followers. Also, he loses his focus after 1936, when Coughlin and company become more outright in their bigotry. Lastly, Warren frequently telegraphs his own sentiments against more modern day Coughlins like Pat Robertson and the Moral Majority. Whether today's right wing approximates that of 1936 America is a worthy subject, but one that Warren's asides seem to cursorily accept as true - an indisputable yardstick of conservative religious bigotry. Worse, it telegraphs the author's intention to write for a narrow readership - something Coughlin was doubtless famous for, though admittedly on a higher scale. These faults wouldn't matter if "Radio Priest" wasn't already a compelling book. Luckily, the book is not only compelling, but substantive enough to rise above what's wrong with it as well.

This is an excellent biography of one of the most appalling figures in recent American history. Father Coughlin was a hatemonger, an anti-Semite of tremendous proportions, and often a liar. That ANYONE could believe him to be worthy of praise, let alone "the sort of priest we need more of," is a sad, sad commentary on America.

It is hard to believe that Father Coughlin was allowed to stay on the air and spew his poison for as long as he did. I wonder what he would have thought of the death camps? Or would he have found a way to deny the fruit of his hateful, unchristian ravings?

Father Coughlin had the spine to say what he belived and told the truth as he seen it. Too bad we don't have Catholic priest today with the...[guts] to tell it like it is.

How can anyone not see what going on in the media with the soul murder of the American people by the people the good priest warned us about.

God bless Father Coughlin

I find "Redgauntlet" one of the less satisfactory novels in the Waverley series. Certainly, it has the local flavor, the dialect, the imaginative description of evocative landscapes all his novels have, but it is not a blast as some of the others are. The plot involves a fictitious third Jacobite rebellion, and it is interesting to see how Scott (especially in the notes from the Magnum edition, included in this edition) argues this time not for the historicity but for the historical probability of the events described. While Scott is often hailed as the inventor of the historical novel, "Redgauntlet" also shows him to be a forerunner in the historically probable novel--a genre practiced to great effect by our present-day history buff, Umberto Eco.

But probability alone does not a great novel make. Darsie Latimer's character is even less probable than his semi-historical counterparts, such as Edmund Waverley and Henry Morton. And this is strange, since moving further into fictionality, one could argue, a writer might allow themselves more latitude to make a character interesting, even if certain circumstances remain historical. Is this a conscious effort on Scott's part to show, after the fictionality of history, the fictionality of fiction?

Scott disturbs narrative conventions even further when the conspiracy against the Hanoverian King George III completely fails to materialize--ironically, for what seems to be the silliest of reasons: the Pretender (or the Chevalier if you're a Jacobite), Charles Stuart, refuses to give up his mistress. Thus, the main plot of the novel sizzles out and really not much happens in these 400 pages. Mind you, I personally don't need much to happen, but the 19th century novel did. Scott as a postmodern writer? That is pushing it too far, but this novel awaits a postmodern critique enlightened by a reading of Eco and Bakhtin.

That said, there are some really interesting things going on. Apart from the "regular" set of characters of Scott's Scottish novels, this one features an orthodox Quaker who is the epitome of anti-militant mercantilism. The form is also quite new for Scott--the novel is an epistolary, a set of letters between Darsie Latimer and his friend Alan Fairford. Thus, the novel's first-person point of view is split, and this provides for interesting contrasts.

For me, Scott sort of shot himself in the foot with this novel. His earlier novels ("Redgauntlet" is the last of the Scottish novels, written eight years before his death) lead one to expect a major action to happen before the denouement, and this one avoids that a bit too artificially. It seems that Scott was at pains to stick to history, and his own political convictions, a bit too much: a fictitious Jacobite rebellion is OK as a narrative vehicle, but it shouldn't interfere with the peaceful Great Britain (in which Scotland was in many respects subsidiary to England) that Scott himself inhabited and advocated. And so narrative excitement has to give way to Scott's pacifist politics--an honest choice, which Scott consistently maintains in all the Waverley novels--and character development and politics take precedent.

A final note: Scott has always proven himself a masterful and honest critic of royalty and nobility, especially of those characters he seems to love. "Waverley"'s Mac-Ivor is chastised for his political obstinacy, in "The Fortunes of Nigel" King James I (a Scot) is rebuked for his fickleness and corruption, and in "Redgauntlet" the formerly charismatic Stuart proves effeminate and tragic (dying an impoverished alcoholic, in the footnotes). And often enough, these tragic characters are of more interest than the somewhat ineffectual and sometimes foolish main characters: something for readers of literature to sink their teeth into.

This book was used in an introduction to differential equations, and was of very little reference value. The theory is extremely distant from application, and the scientific and engineering motivations for solving differential equations are not apparent. If a concept was missed in lecture, it was often an ordeal to attempt to learn from the book.

I am currently using this text for an intro level differential equations course, and I feel that this book is well suited as such. It should be easily acessible to anyone with a basic intro calculus foundation and it is ideal for self-study. On the other hand, this text does contain a noticible number of typos, both in "back-of-the-book" answers and example problems. A potential reader should note that this book is fairly applied in its nature (as the title would indicate--engineers take delight, theoreticians take dismay), so one shouldn't expect more than an introduction to the theory of differential equations (ie. don't expect much proof or mathematical rigour).

I don't know why everyone else attacks this book! I used it in a third semester math class at Cornell which was 1/3 vector calc (we used Thomas' Calculus, another great book), 1/3 differential equations, and 1/3 Fourier Series, partial differential equations, boundary value problems. We covered Chapters 1-3, parts of 4 and 6, and all of chapter 9.

The book is excellent. The explanations are clear. The example problems are not just "plug and play." The problems at the end of each section are not bad. I learned about oscillations and mechanical vibrations in physics and then learned about them from this book (3.4/3.6)...the difference was amazing. Their derivations made sense, and the characteristic polynomial technique they use is 1000 times simpler than the trial solution method that many introductory physics books on mechanics use.

The book's only weak point is the discussion of stability and the phase plan in 6.1. They develop it through a bunch of examples instead of talking about the general theory behind it. But this is a minor problem.