Vitality.

To sum up, I place this "natural child" higher than his more legitimate brothers, the English New Writings, which are seldom so alive, intense and experimental. Being of the classic tradition, however, I should like to see more beauty of thought and expression, more warmth of colouring (New Zealand is not a drear prison-houase), more architecture of form—and above all I demand clarity of conception, lacking which all [unclear: waiting] is as a ghost—without form and without utterance.