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Cat Forklift p4000 p5000 p5000 p6500 p7000 Schematic Service Operation Maintenance Manual
Cat Forklift p4000 p5000 p5000 p6500 p7000 Schematic Service Operation Maintenance Manual
https://manualpost.com/download/cat-forklift-p4000-p5000-p5000-p6500-p7000-sc
hematic-service-operation-maintenance-manual/
**CAT Forklift P4000 P5000 P5000 P6500 P7000 Schematic, Service, Operation &
Maintenance Manual** Size: 116 MB Format: PDF Language: English Brand: CAT
Caterpillar Type of Machine: Forklift Type of Manual: Schematic, Service Manual,
Operation & Maintenance Manual Model: CAT P4000 P5000 P5000 P6500 P7000
Forklift Date: 2013 Content: 99719-89110-00 Chassis and Mast: Foreword
99719-89110-01 Chassis and Mast: General Information 99719-89110-02 Chassis
and Mast: Cooling System 99719-89110-03 Chassis and Mast: Electrical System
99719-89110-03a Chassis and Mast: Electrical Schematics 99719-89110-04
Chassis and Mast: Controllers 99719-89110-04a Chassis and Mast: Error Codes
99719-89110-05 Chassis and Mast: Power Train 99719-89110-06 Chassis and
Mast: Powershift Transmission 99719-89110-07 Chassis and Mast: Front Axle and
Reduction Differential 99719-89110-08 Chassis and Mast: Rear Axle
99719-89110-09 Chassis and Mast: Brake System 99719-89110-10 Chassis and
Mast: Steering System 99719-89110-11 Chassis and Mast: Hydraulic System
99719-89110-12 Chassis and Mast: Mast and Forks 99719-89110-13 Chassis and
Mast: Service Data 99719-89140-00 Chassis & Mast: Foreword 99719-89140-01
Chassis & Mast: General Information 99719-89140-02 Chassis & Mast: Cooling
System 99719-89140-03 Chassis & Mast: Electrical System 99719-89140-03a
Chassis & Mast: Electrical Schematic 99719-89140-04 Chassis & Mast: Controller
I think that not only is their affection undervalued, but that the
intelligence of animals is greatly underrated. Man having but one
conception of intelligence, his own, does not endeavour to
comprehend another which is different, and differently exhibited and
expressed. I have before now said in print that if our mind exceeds
the mind of animals and birds in much, theirs exceeds ours at least
in some things, as their sight, scent, and hearing far surpass ours.
When we remember also that these other races are absolutely alone,
are never aided by man, are only, on the contrary, hindered by him,
opposed, thwarted, and persecuted by him, their achievements are,
relatively to their opportunities, much more wonderful than any of
his. The elements which are his great foes are likewise theirs; they
have to encounter and suffer all the woes of tempest, hurricane,
flood, the width of barren seas, the hunger on solitary shores; and
they have also in his ruthless and unceasing spite an enemy more
cruel than any with which he himself has to contend. If we meditate
on this unquestionable fact, we shall be forced to admit that
Cristoforo Colombo was not a greater hero than many a little
swallow.
But scarcely anyone does meditate on these marvels; one in a
million, one in a generation, at the most. To nearly the whole of
humanity the wonderful and beautiful races with which the world
teems, which are for ever living side by side with the human, do not
exist except in so far as they contribute to the pleasure of slaughter,
or the greed of commerce, or of gambling. For to the majority of
men and women all organisms except their own are as though they
were not.
There is no sympathy with these interesting and mysterious lives led
side by side with man, but ignored by him entirely, except when by
him persecuted. The nest of the weaver bird is to the full as
ingenious and as marvellous as the dome of St Peter's or St Paul's.
The beaver State, and the bee State, are as intricate in organisation
as the Constitution of the French Republic, and the British Monarchy,
and are distinctly superior in many parts of their organisation to
either of these. The passage of the white ants through a jungle and
across a continent is quite as admirable in unison and skill and order
as the human march to Chitral; and the annual flights of the storks,
of the Solan geese, of the wild ducks, exhibit qualities of obedience
to a chosen commander, of endurance, of observation, and of
wisdom, not exceeded by any human Arctic or Australian exploring
party.
The vain-glorious assumption that we have a monopoly of what is
called reason cannot be allowed by those who bring a reason of their
own, unbiassed, to the study of animals, not under the unnatural
conditions of the laboratory, but in natural freedom and peace.
No skill of a Stanley or a Nansen ever exceeded that of the hound
Maida in tracing Sir Walter Scott, and no journey of a Burton or a
Speke was ever so wonderful as the migratory voyage of a martin or
a nightingale. I have said this ere now; and it can never be repeated
too often, for nothing is so cruel as the vanity of man, and nothing
so opposed to his own true progress as his blind and dogged
contempt for all races not shaped exactly like his own.
The correspondence which has been general in the English press
regarding the muzzling of dogs, has been conspicuous for its
silliness, ignorance, and cruelty, but above all by its disgusting
selfishness; and an editor of a very popular organ was not ashamed
to print that if only one human life could be saved, etc., etc.,
disregarding the fact that men were at the time being slaughtered
by dysentery and fever, by the scores, for no better object than to
go and cut down cotton trees at Coomassie; whilst deaths by
starvation, a perfectly preventible cause, are so common in English
cities that the reports of them scarcely awaken a passing regret or
compassion. The veneration for human life which is developed by
journalists when a lion kills his gaoler, or when a dog is supposed to
have been the cause of his tormentor's death, is comical in these
gentlemen of the press, who, to help a speculation, open out a new
mart, or influence the share lists, will ravenously demand a military
expedition, or a naval demonstration, to sabre, shell, burn, and
ravage upon distant strands.
The attitude of the Brahmin, to whom all forms of life are sacred, is
intelligible, estimable, and consistent; the attitude of the savage
conqueror, to whom thousands of dead men and thousands of dead
beasts are alike so much carrion, is intelligible and reasonable, whilst
brutal. The attitude of the journalist and county councilman is not
either; it possesses neither logic nor common sense, and is not
estimable or reasonable, but only contemptible.
If there be one thing more loathsome than the carnage of war, it is
the Red Cross societies following in its train. But the modern world,
being conscious that the butchery of war ill accords with its æsthetic
and religious pretensions, gives a sop to its conscience by sending
the ambulance side by side with the gun carriage. A more robust
and more honest temper did not evade the truth that the least brutal
war is the one most immediately and conclusively destructive; the
slaughter of wounded men was more truly merciful than the modern
system of surgery and nursing, which saves shattered constitutions
and ruined health to drag out a miserable and artificially prolonged
existence.
There is, however, something which the ordinary human mind finds
soothing and delightful in this formula of 'the sanctity of human life,'
when combined with a corresponding disregard for human and for
all other life. The good Christian likes to be raised aloft, in his own
eyes, from all those other races which he imagines were given to
him for his use and abuse by a gracious Deity. He loves to think that
both God and the neighbouring policeman are watching over him;
and taking care alike of his soul and of his greatcoat. In the
enormous vanity of the Christian who believes all the laws of the
universe altered for him, or in the equally enormous vanity of the
scientist who arrogates to himself the right to dogmatise on the
mysteries of creation, this attitude is not surprising. But in either the
philosophic mind; or the poetic temperament, it is so because to the
philosopher the difference between the human and the other races
cannot appear very great, whilst to the poet the solidarity of all
sentient life must always seem unquestionable. That friend, and
scholar, and poet for whom I mourn as freshly as though he had
died but yesterday did not disdain to greet a brother's spirit in
I have read with the attention due to the author's name the essay of
Professor Sergi on the decadence of the Latin nations. It seems to
me, when reflecting on it, that the esteemed author gives to every
slight change, the much-used, and much-abused, name of progress;
and considers mere change as an indisputable betterment. He also
considers that the Latin races cannot exist under modern conditions
unless they form themselves on the models and follow the examples
of non-Latin races; if, that is to say, they do not imitate what is
foreign and alien to them. It is clear that he does not for a moment
doubt that the non-Latin are infinitely superior to the Latin peoples,
and he rebukes the latter for remaining immovable, although,
somewhat oddly, he excepts France from his censure on account of
her great commerce, and only includes in his ban his own country
and Spain.
With Spain I do not occupy myself, as I am not sufficiently well
acquainted with her to do so; indeed, Professor Sergi himself says
very little about her; but of Italy I cannot consider that his
condemnation is merited. If she do merit it, why does she do so?
Both questions are interesting. Professor Sergi, like too many writers
of the present time, assumes as an indisputable fact that the mere
innovation, the mere alteration of a thing, is of necessity
improvement, advancement, amelioration; and this being his rooted
conviction, he considers Great Britain and the United States the
models and ideals of modern life. For this reason he would force
Italy to abandon entirely her traditions, her instincts, and her natural
genius, and substitute for them an exact and servile imitation of
these two foreign peoples who have tastes in common with her.
Unfortunately he does not inform us to what point he carries this
desire, and if the immense changes he advises are to be dynastic
and political, or merely social and intellectual. He prints in capital
letters his chief advice to the Latin nations to move on new lines;
but he does not explain whether he means to move to a new
Constitution, to a new Representation, to a new theory and practice
of Government; and he does not even say whether he thinks or does
not think that the Church is the greatest enemy of national progress
in Latin nations. It would be interesting to know in what proportions
he holds the two antagonistic forces of Church and State to be guilty
of opposing progress; that each is an obstacle to the higher forms of
progress there can be no question in the mind of any dispassionate
thinker. But he is careful not to commit himself to this view. Since he
gives us so little information on this head, and limits himself to the
counsel, somewhat meagre in its expression, to move on new lines,
we may endeavour to find out for ourselves how far his advice goes:
if Italy do actually merit his contempt for her inertia, and if the non-
Latin races deserve or do not deserve the admiration with which he
pronounces on their superiority.
That the Italian nation is immovable is not true: for good or evil it
moves as its great son Gallileo said of the earth. The fault, the peril,
lie the other way. It is to be feared that the Italian people run the
risk of losing their finest instincts, and their most gracious
characteristics, through the exaggerated and obsequious imitation of
foreign peoples, and by a too ready adoration of new things merely
because they are new. They are the ideals of many a modern Italian.
Guglielmo Ferrero has dedicated many hundreds of pages to the
celebration of their perfections. I believe that such worship is chiefly
founded on illusion, for it is as easy to cherish illusions about a
steam mill as about a mediæval saint.
Let us look at the actual situation of Great Britain, setting aside her
imperialist swagger, and regarding only facts. The English
themselves admit that if a European naval coalition succeeded in
preventing grain reaching their shores from America and the
colonies, the nation in a fortnight would want bread. Is that an ideal
or a safe position? If, in a sea-war, the British fleet would be
successful is wholly uncertain, since no one can say how the metal
battleships would behave in any distress; the manœuvres have not
shed much light upon this question, and many of the marine
monsters, as regards their utility in active warfare, are still unknown
quantities. Equally uncertain is what would be the conduct of the
Indian population were Great Britain vanquished in any great war,
for the majority of the peoples of Hindostan most unwillingly endure
through coercion the yoke of the British rule.
In Ireland there is a racial hatred which nothing can extinguish, and
only demands a favourable occasion to show itself. Canada may any
day embroil England with the United States; and so may the West
Indies, and the Nebraskan and Nicaraguan questions; and so may
Newfoundland with France, and East or West Africa with Germany.
In every part of the globe Great Britain has on her hands conquests,
colonies, intrigues, enemies, open questions, and concealed
questions, of every kind. Her greed is great, and her entanglements
are innumerable. There are many weak points in her fortifications.
To meet her obligations she is obliged to use legions of Asiatics, or
Africans, or employ as mercenaries men from her distant colonies, or
send the soldiers of one vanquished nation to help vanquish another.
Thus did Imperial Rome, and so went to her undoing. Doubtless
Great Britain is rich, powerful, strong, proud, and vain. So was
Rome; so was Spain. It is possible, even probable, that at some,
perhaps not distant day, Great Britain also will give way under the
enormous weight of her self-sought responsibilities, and the still
more ponderous weight of her many enemies.
Internally, also, England is not what she used to be. The old nobility
is elbowed out of prominent place by a new aristocracy which has
been created entirely on a money basis. Every ministry, when going
out of office, creates a new batch of titled rich men, lifted into the
Lords in return for political or financial service. Wealth is now the
dominant factor of English social life; and a commerce, wholly
unscrupulous, is the sole scope of the tawdry and noisy empire of
which Joseph Chamberlain is the standard-bearer.
What is there in all this to admire or to imitate?
Again we have seen that in the United States, since they abandoned
their wise policy of non-intervention in external affairs, the national
life resembles the English, is vain, boastful, hypocritical, cruel, and
bellicose. The thirst of gain devours the nation. There is no other
land in which the contrast between rich and poor is so sharp and
terrible; none in which millions are thrown away with more frightful
indifference and conceited display. Lynch law in all its horror reigns
over many provinces, and unblushing corruption mounts into the
highest places and poisons all the sources of national life. Guglielmo
Ferrero stands stupefied before their innumerable newspaper offices,
which he says use up every day as much paper as would go round
the circumference of the earth! But he forgets, or ignores, that the
literary quality of those journals is usually of the poorest and
vulgarest kind, and that the chief part of their columns is filled by
advertisements. He is also transfixed with rapture before the colossal
houses which Americans call sky-scrapers, and sees the revelation of
a stupendous genius in their passion for what is big, costly,
eccentric; nor does he hesitate to compare it with the Florentine and
Venetian genius!
Actually there was never on earth two more different kinds of
creation than these; never one more absolutely soulless, and one
more nobly penetrated by the soul. The genius of the Italian masters
was lofty, generous, at once humble and sublime, never interested,
always consecrated to Art and Country; the skill of the American
constructors has no other scope than that of getting money, of
making the world stare, of producing the huge, the gross, the
extravagant, the enormous, and labours for only one God, the venal
Mercury of the market-place. In these new cities, so vehemently
extolled, with their towering constructions which hide the smoke-
obscured clouds, and their network of electric wires, of railways in
the air, and trams running across each other, there is not the faintest
spark of that divine light which is called Liberty. Americans boast of
their freedom, but it only exists in words; it has no abiding place
outside a boisterous rhetoric. The old Puritanism still exists in
religious bigotry and persecution; office is bought and sold; justice is
a matter of money; private life suffers from conventionalities and
social tyrannies innumerable; political and municipal elections are
the work of a Caucus. A man cannot drink, or stir, or do aught
without his neighbour knowing and judging what he does; even
marriage is to be made a matter for doctors to allow or disallow; the
whole press is but a gigantic Paul Pry, a vast Holy Office where the
persecution by the pen ends in the execution by the revolver.
Such is American liberty.
What can Italy learn from such a model?
Amongst the maladies of the brain known in this day is one which is
called the mania of grandeur. It seems to me that not only
individuals, but entire nations, are possessed by it. It is perilous and
contagious. Italy has already been inoculated by its virus.
There is also everywhere a fatal tendency to open the door of Italy
to every foreign syndicate, and every foreign speculation, which puts
forward a prospectus or launches shares on the market. The
preponderance of Jews is enormous as owners of ground rents and
estates in Italy; the chief part of Italian cities and towns is owned by
Jews; and the greater number of the industries of all kinds in the
country are in the hands of foreigners, like the newly-projected
mining enterprise in Elba. If these mines be worth the working, why
does not Italy work them herself, and take all the profits?
These facts are not due to any immovability; but to a dangerously
lax tendency to run into foreign roads. The Italian Faust is only too
susceptible to the invitations of the foreign Mephistopheles.
On the other hand a very marked inclination in the Italian is towards
the modern forms of co-operation and communism. This tendency is
not due in any way to the influence of the past, but to that mixture