A short time ago I made the decision to read through all of David McCullough's books. He is a renown historian and a gifted author and I realized that reading his books would be both educational and enjoyable--not just to learn history from a master but to learn from his style of writing. Few men can write history with the lucidity and character of David McCullough. This is why, I'm sure, all of his books remain in print, even forty and fifty years after publication, and why he has twice received the Pulitzer Prize (not to mention multitudes of other accolades).

I have often heard it said that no subject in history (with the possible exception of Jesus) has received as much attention in the written word as the Second World War. Even today, more than sixty years after it drew to a close, the war continues to fascinate. We still see a constant stream of books, movies and video games drawing upon that worldwide conflict. This makes good sense, I suppose. With countless millions involved in the war in one way or another, and with each person having a story to tell, we will never lack for interesting tales. Like so many others, I never tire of reading these stories.

I am a little bit late to the party with this book. Released in hardcover in 2001 and paperback in 2002, John Adams is regarded as one of David McCullough's greatest achievements. This is no little praise for a man who had previously won a Pulitzer prize (for his biography of Harry Truman)--a reward he was to receive again for John Adams. The precursor to 2005's 1776, this is a stirring biography and one of the best I've ever read. Like McCullough's other titles, this book is not hard to read and never bogs down in detail. Instead it is fast-moving and gripping, reading almost like a novel.

I am no scholar and am unequipped to comment on the accuracy of McCullough's portrait of Adams. I will leave that to the historians. So rather than provide a blow-by-blow account of Adams's life, let me simply suggest a few of the lessons and observations I drew from this book.

Stephen Nichols is quite the prolific author. A professor at Lancaster Bible College and Graduate School and a graduate of Westminster Theological Seminary, Nichols has written several notable books in the past few years and it seems that he always has at least one title on the “Coming Soon” lists at Crossway or P&R Publishing. Nichols has a gift for presenting church history in a way that is interesting and in a way that appeals to those who may not otherwise know (or care) about the long, storied history of the church. He shows how church history is relevant precisely because the controversies we face today are strikingly similar to ones the church has dealt with long ages ago.

I began reading Manhunt on the Monday morning of a long weekend. By the end of the day I had accomplished none of the chores and errands I had hoped to scratch off my list, but instead found myself 350 pages into this book. I eventually pried myself away long enough to get some sleep and then promptly finished it up the next morning. Though I am a lover of history, rarely has my attention been held as long and as rapt as with this work of non-fiction.

I have long been fascinated with Abraham Lincoln. I first encountered him during a family vacation in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. Touring the battlefields and the surrounding area we came to that place where he delivered the Gettysburg Address which has rightly gone done in history as one of the greatest English literary accomplishments. A few years later we traveled to Springfield and visited the home where he lived while practicing law. It was there that we found a small book titled Abraham Lincoln: The Man and His Faith. This book traced not only Lincoln’s life but also his Christian faith. Though since his childhood he had lived a life free from serious moral blemish, it seems he did not come to trust in Christ until shortly before his death. And, in fact, it seems that his time spent touring the ravaged fields of Gettysburg served to turn his affections upward to the only One who could bring home from such devastation.

Few recent books have so wide and so deep an impact as Arnold Dallimore’s magisterial biography of George Whitefield. The first volume, stretching from Whitefield’s birth in 1714 to his section visit to American in 1740 was published in 1970 and has since been reprinted six times. The second volume, which stretches from 1740 until Whitefield’s death in 1770, was published ten years later in 1980. It has been reprinted three times. Together the volumes comprise some 1200 pages of detailed biography. Rarely have I had a biography recommended to me by so many and by men of such distinction. Rarely have I benefited more from reading about another man’s life.

On Sunday, April 14, 1935, a massive dust storm fell upon a portion of five different states: Kansas, Colorado, Oklahoma, Texas and New Mexico. The greatest and worst dust storm on record, it turned night into day and became known ever after as Black Sunday. During the 1930s these storms had become common throughout the Great Plains and extending all the way into the Canadian prairies.

That the name of William Wilberforce has largely been lost to history seems somehow unfair. Wilberforce was the driving force behind the abolition of slavery within the British Empire. A Member of Parliament for forty-five years, the results of his efforts are still seen and understood in Western society to this day. Though his impact was felt not only at his time, but has extended through history, few people know his name. In Amazing Grace, Eric Metaxas’ new biography of Wilberforce, which was timed to coincide with the release of a film by the same title (which was, in turn, timed to coincide with the two hundredth anniversary of the abolition of the slave trade) he makes the valid comparison to a scientist who discovers the cure for an inoculation against a terrible disease. As the disease is eradicated and passes out of memory, so the scientist’s name is likely to be forgotten. And this is what seems to have happened to Wilberforce.

On the face of it, or judging by the title, A Scottish Christian Heritage does not sound like the kind of book many people would enjoy. It sounds like a book that will dwell on a narrow topic and one that will be of interest to only a select group of people. But those of us who appreciate the writing ministry of Iain Murray know that what he writes is always worth reading.