AND THERE THOU SHALT SERVE OTHER GODS, WHICH NEITHER THOU NOR THY by Percy Bysshe Shelley: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
This text isn't a poem in the traditional sense; it's a fragment of prose-essay by Shelley, likely taken from his early pamphlet *The Necessity of Atheism* or from the notes to *Queen Mab*.
The poem
FATHERS HAVE KNOWN, EVEN GODS OF WOOD AND STONE.’ The Jews are at this day remarkably tenacious of their religion. Moses also declares that they shall be subjected to these curses for disobedience to his ritual: ‘And it shall come to pass, if thou wilt not hearken unto the voice of the Lord thy God, to observe to do all the commandments and statutes which I command thee this day; that all these curses shall come upon thee, and overtake thee.’ Is this the real reason? The third, fourth, and fifth chapters of Hosea are a piece of immodest confession. The indelicate type might apply in a hundred senses to a hundred things. The fifty-third chapter of Isaiah is more explicit, yet it does not exceed in clearness the oracles of Delphos. The historical proof that Moses, Isaiah, and Hosea did write when they are said to have written is far from being clear and circumstantial. But prophecy requires proof in its character as a miracle; we have no right to suppose that a man foreknew future events from God, until it is demonstrated that he neither could know them by his own exertions, nor that the writings which contain the prediction could possibly have been fabricated after the event pretended to be foretold. It is more probable that writings, pretending to divine inspiration, should have been fabricated after the fulfilment of their pretended prediction than that they should have really been divinely inspired, when we consider that the latter supposition makes God at once the creator of the human mind and ignorant of its primary powers, particularly as we have numberless instances of false religions, and forged prophecies of things long past, and no accredited case of God having conversed with men directly or indirectly. It is also possible that the description of an event might have foregone its occurrence; but this is far from being a legitimate proof of a divine revelation, as many men, not pretending to the character of a prophet, have nevertheless, in this sense, prophesied. Lord Chesterfield was never yet taken for a prophet, even by a bishop, yet he uttered this remarkable prediction: ‘The despotic government of France is screwed up to the highest pitch; a revolution is fast approaching; that revolution, I am convinced, will be radical and sanguinary.’ This appeared in the letters of the prophet long before the accomplishment of this wonderful prediction. Now, have these particulars come to pass, or have they not? If they have, how could the Earl have foreknown them without inspiration? If we admit the truth of the Christian religion on testimony such as this, we must admit, on the same strength of evidence, that God has affixed the highest rewards to belief, and the eternal tortures of the never-dying worm to disbelief, both of which have been demonstrated to be involuntary. The last proof of the Christian religion depends on the influence of the Holy Ghost. Theologians divide the influence of the Holy Ghost into its ordinary and extraordinary modes of operation. The latter is supposed to be that which inspired the Prophets and Apostles; and the former to be the grace of God, which summarily makes known the truth of His revelation to those whose mind is fitted for its reception by a submissive perusal of His word. Persons convinced in this manner can do anything but account for their conviction, describe the time at which it happened, or the manner in which it came upon them. It is supposed to enter the mind by other channels than those of the senses, and therefore professes to be superior to reason founded on their experience. Admitting, however, the usefulness or possibility of a divine revelation, unless we demolish the foundations of all human knowledge, it is requisite that our reason should previously demonstrate its genuineness; for, before we extinguish the steady ray of reason and common sense, it is fit that we should discover whether we cannot do without their assistance, whether or no there be any other which may suffice to guide us through the labyrinth of life (See Locke’s “Essay on the Human Understanding”, book 4 chapter 19, on Enthusiasm.): for, if a man is to be inspired upon all occasions, if he is to be sure of a thing because he is sure, if the ordinary operations of the Spirit are not to be considered very extraordinary modes of demonstration, if enthusiasm is to usurp the place of proof, and madness that of sanity, all reasoning is superfluous. The Mahometan dies fighting for his prophet, the Indian immolates himself at the chariot-wheels of Brahma, the Hottentot worships an insect, the Negro a bunch of feathers, the Mexican sacrifices human victims! Their degree of conviction must certainly be very strong: it cannot arise from reasoning, it must from feelings, the reward of their prayers. If each of these should affirm, in opposition to the strongest possible arguments, that inspiration carried internal evidence, I fear their inspired brethren, the orthodox missionaries, would be so uncharitable as to pronounce them obstinate. Miracles cannot be received as testimonies of a disputed fact, because all human testimony has ever been insufficient to establish the possibility of miracles. That which is incapable of proof itself is no proof of anything else. Prophecy has also been rejected by the test of reason. Those, then, who have been actually inspired are the only true believers in the Christian religion. Mox numine viso Virgineei tumuere sinus, innuptaque mater Arcano stupuit compleri viscera partu, Auctorem paritura suum. Mortalia corda Artificem texere poli, latuitque sub uno Pectore, qui totum late complectitur orbem.—Claudian, “Carmen Paschale”. Does not so monstrous and disgusting an absurdity carry its own infamy and refutation with itself?
This text isn't a poem in the traditional sense; it's a fragment of prose-essay by Shelley, likely taken from his early pamphlet *The Necessity of Atheism* or from the notes to *Queen Mab*. In this piece, Shelley methodically dismantles the three key arguments that support the truth of Christianity: prophecy, miracles, and the inner witness of the Holy Ghost. He examines each argument through the lens of reason and evidence. His conclusion is straightforward: none of these proofs actually prove anything, and the emotional certainty experienced by believers of all faiths undermines rather than validates any specific religion.
Line-by-line
The Jews are at this day remarkably tenacious of their religion. Moses also declares that they shall be subjected to these curses for disobedience...
But prophecy requires proof in its character as a miracle; we have no right to suppose that a man foreknew future events from God...
Lord Chesterfield was never yet taken for a prophet, even by a bishop, yet he uttered this remarkable prediction...
The last proof of the Christian religion depends on the influence of the Holy Ghost...
Admitting, however, the usefulness or possibility of a divine revelation, unless we demolish the foundations of all human knowledge...
Miracles cannot be received as testimonies of a disputed fact, because all human testimony has ever been insufficient to establish the possibility of miracles.
Mox numine viso / Virgineei tumuere sinus...
Tone & mood
The tone is cool, prosecutorial, and unyieldingly logical. Shelley writes like a confident young lawyer arguing a case—he presents each claim, measures it against a standard, and dismisses it. There's a touch of dry wit (like the Chesterfield example and the jab at orthodox missionaries), but no rage or sentimentality. The overall effect is that of someone who has already formed an opinion and is now systematically clearing away the debris.
Symbols & metaphors
- Prophecy — Prophecy represents the larger issue of *authority*. Shelley uses it to question: why should we accept any claims about the supernatural? He argues that the same criteria used to validate biblical prophecy could validate any prediction made by anyone — meaning prophecy doesn't prove anything significant.
- Lord Chesterfield's prediction — Chesterfield acts like a secular mirror reflecting the biblical prophets. He was worldly and irreligious, yet his insights were spot on. His example demonstrates that having accurate foresight doesn’t need a divine source; it just requires political intelligence and keen observation. This is why he serves as Shelley’s most powerful rhetorical tool in the piece.
- The Holy Ghost / inner conviction — The Holy Ghost stands as the final stronghold in religious debate: the assertion that faith validates itself through personal experience. Shelley views this as the most perilous of the three proofs since it cannot be challenged from the outside — and he demonstrates that this very immunity renders it unfit as evidence.
- The Latin epigraph from Claudian — The closing quotation about the Virgin Birth presents doctrine in a straightforward manner, without any reverent language to soften it. By citing a pagan Latin poet who describes the Incarnation in raw, almost grotesque terms, Shelley removes the miracle from its sacred context and prompts the reader to consider it as a simple factual assertion.
- The labyrinth of life — The labyrinth, inspired by Locke, symbolizes the intricate nature of moral and philosophical choices in Shelley's view. Reason acts as the guiding thread that helps us navigate it. On the other hand, enthusiasm — that uncritical religious fervor — causes you to let go of the thread and lose your way.
Historical context
Shelley wrote this text around 1811, at the age of nineteen, shortly after being expelled from Oxford for co-authoring *The Necessity of Atheism*. The content here closely resembles the notes he later added to his long poem *Queen Mab* (1813), where he included detailed prose footnotes presenting a rationalist critique of organized religion, monarchy, and commerce. He was heavily influenced by thinkers like William Godwin, David Hume's essay on miracles, and Locke's criticisms of religious enthusiasm. In early nineteenth-century Britain, public atheism was not just unpopular; it was legally perilous, as blasphemous libel was a prosecutable offense. By choosing to publish these arguments under his own name, Shelley demonstrated remarkable intellectual bravery, which ultimately led to his expulsion from university and, later, the loss of custody of his children.
FAQ
You’re right to point that out. This is prose, not verse — it’s a fragment from Shelley’s rationalist philosophical writing, probably from the notes for *Queen Mab* or related to *The Necessity of Atheism*. It’s categorized under Shelley's works because he wrote it, but it’s more aligned with his essays and pamphlets than with his poetry.
He is challenging the three traditional proofs put forward to support Christianity: prophecy, miracles, and the inner witness of the Holy Spirit. His approach is consistent across all three — he demonstrates that the level of evidence needed to accept these proofs would, if applied fairly, also validate the claims of other religions and various non-religious predictions. Because these proofs are too broad, they ultimately prove nothing.
Chesterfield accurately predicted the French Revolution in a private letter written years before it occurred. Shelley uses this to illustrate that making accurate predictions relies on careful observation and intelligence, not divine inspiration. If we label Chesterfield a prophet based on the same reasoning applied to Isaiah, it undermines the argument for biblical prophecy.
He means you can't just decide to believe something. Belief comes from evidence and feelings—you can’t make yourself accept something that doesn’t convince you. This is important because the Christian doctrine he critiques claims that God rewards belief and punishes disbelief forever. Shelley’s argument is that it’s morally absurd to punish someone for something beyond their control.
It comes from Claudian's *Carmen Paschale*, a late Roman poem about Easter, describing the Virgin Birth in very tangible terms — the swelling womb, the unmarried mother, and the shock of the mysterious pregnancy. Shelley uses this to peel away the reverent layers around the doctrine. His final question — does this not carry its own refutation? — invites the reader to think about whether the Virgin Birth, presented simply as a fact, is actually believable.
He identified as an atheist at nineteen, which led to his expulsion from Oxford. As he grew older, his views shifted towards a sort of pantheism—a belief that nature or some impersonal force is at the core of existence—evident in poems like *Mont Blanc* and *Adonais*. However, he never went back to orthodox Christianity, and his disdain for organized religion persisted throughout his brief life.
John Locke was an English philosopher from the seventeenth century who wrote the *Essay Concerning Human Understanding*, where he claimed that all knowledge is derived from our senses and reason. In Book 4, Chapter 19, he criticized 'Enthusiasm' — the idea that religious feelings provide direct access to truth without the need for reason or evidence. Shelley references Locke to demonstrate that even a highly regarded philosopher had already refuted the argument based on inner conviction over a century ago.
He was expelled from University College, Oxford in 1811 after publishing *The Necessity of Atheism*. His freethought beliefs also led to a rift with his father, the collapse of his first marriage, and — most painfully — a court ruling in 1817 that stripped him of custody of his children with his first wife Harriet, partly because his atheism was deemed to make him an unfit parent.