Progress was discussed by Fiske in his Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy (1874), vol. ii. 192 sqq.  For him (p. 201) “the fundamental characteristic of social progress is the continuous weakening of selfishness and the continuous strengthening of sympathy.”]

Thus in the seventies and eighties of the last century the idea of Progress was becoming a general article of faith.  Some might hold it in the fatalistic form that humanity moves in a desirable direction, whatever men do or may leave undone; others might believe that the future will depend largely on our own conscious efforts, but that there is nothing in the nature of things to disappoint the prospect of steady and indefinite advance.  The majority did not inquire too curiously into such points of doctrine, but received it in a vague sense as a comfortable addition to their convictions.  But it became a part of the general mental outlook of educated people.

When Mr. Frederic Harrison delivered in 1889 at Manchester an eloquent discourse on the “New Era,” in which the dominant note is “the faith in human progress in lieu of celestial rewards of the separate soul,” his general argument could appeal to immensely wider circles than the Positivists whom he was specially addressing.

The dogma—­for a dogma it remains, in spite of the confidence of Comte or of Spencer that he had made it a scientific hypothesis—­has produced an important ethical principle.  Consideration for posterity has throughout history operated as a motive of conduct, but feebly, occasionally, and in a very limited sense.  With the doctrine of Progress it assumes, logically, a preponderating importance; for the centre of interest is transferred to the life of future generations who are to enjoy conditions of happiness denied to us, but which our labours and sufferings are to help to bring about.  If the doctrine is held in an extreme fatalistic form, then our duty is to resign ourselves cheerfully to sacrifices for the sake of unknown descendants, just as ordinary altruism enjoins the cheerful acceptance of sacrifices for the sake of living fellow-creatures.  Winwood Reade indicated this when he wrote, “Our own prosperity is founded on the agonies of the past.  Is it therefore unjust that we also should suffer for the benefit of those who are to come?” But if it is held that each generation can by its own deliberate acts determine for good or evil the destinies of the race, then our duties towards others reach out through time as well as through space, and our contemporaries are only a negligible fraction of the “neighbours” to whom we owe obligations.  The ethical end may still be formulated, with the Utilitarians, as the greatest happiness of the greatest number; only the greatest number includes, as Kidd observed, “the members of generations yet unborn or unthought of.”  This extension of the moral code, if it is not yet conspicuous in treatises on Ethics, has in late years been obtaining recognition in practice.