Primarily, this applies to the vegetal race-traits, the “physiognomy of position,” as apart from movement of the mobile--i.e., everything which does _not_ differ in the living and in the dead animal-body and cannot but express itself even in stiffened members. There is undoubtedly something cognate in the growth of an ilex or a Lombardy poplar and that of a man--“thickset,” “slim,” “drooping,” and so forth. Similarly, the outline of the back of a dromedary, or the striping of a tiger- or zebra-skin is a vegetal race-mark. And so, too, are the motion-actions of nature _upon and with a creature_--a birch-tree or a delicately built child, which both sway in the wind, an oak with its splintered crown, the steady circles or frightened flutterings of birds in the storm, all belong to the plant side of race. But on which side of the line do such characters stand when _blood and soil contend for the inner form of the “transplanted” species_, human or animal? And how much of the constitution of the soul, the social code, the house, is of this kind? It is quite another picture that presents itself when we attune ourselves to receive the impressions of the purely animal. The difference between plantwise being and animalwise waking-being (to recall what has been said earlier) is such that we are here concerned, not simply with waking-being itself and its language, but with the combination of cosmic and microcosmic to form a freely moving body, a microcosm _vis-à-vis_ a macrocosm, whose independent life-activity possesses an expression peculiar to itself, which makes use in part of the organs of waking-consciousness and which--as the corals show--is mostly lost again with the cessation of mobility.