Of radical magazines there is no end. The barometers of influence, modes, cults and cliques, they succeed each other in gay, interminable successionbacked by a group of bright young people who want to see their names in print, or by a garretful of earnest intellectuals whose desire it is to break a lance for any forlorn cause and die if they canor at least starveon the barricade of some well fought for hope. The magazines are published in amazing covers of topaz and mauve and cinnamon. Braver than autumn leaves, they flourish for a...
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