The Salem Witch Trials In The Crucible By Arthur Miller

The year is 1692. Throughout the small, Puritan, seaside community of Salem, rumors and accusations fly like gusts of ocean wind. Neighbors turn on neighbors, and even the most holy church-goers are accused of being the devil’s servants. The Crucible details this real-life tragedy of the Salem witch trials, in which nineteen members of the Salem community were hanged for alleged witchcraft. Abigail Williams, a seemingly innocent girl, accuses dozens of Salem’s citizens of witchcraft through the support of her mob of girls and the complicity of the court officials. The title of this play gives significant insight into the experiences of several of these Salem citizens. Although a crucible is often used in chemistry for heating up substances,

the title of the play carries a much greater weight. In his famous play The Crucible, Arthur Miller uses the title of “crucible” to signify the severe and unrelenting tests of faith and character that many of the community members endure throughout the Salem witch trials, which he achieves through the use of figurative language and fallacies of relevance and insufficiency.
In The Crucible, those accused of witchcraft face the most severe tests of faith and character, yet due to their deep faith and integrity, they pass these tests. Many of the accused in the play are some of the most upstanding and respected citizens of Salem, including Rebecca Nurse, Martha Corey, and John and Elizabeth Proctor. However, they still face scrutiny and accusations from their fellow neighbors. When his wife, Rebecca, is accused of witchcraft, Francis Nurse jumps to her defense, saying “[his] wife is the very brick and mortar of the church” (71). With this metaphor of how faithful citizens like Rebecca are the vital foundations of the Salem community, Miller illustrates how shocking these accusations are to a community built upon the “brick and mortar” of the Puritan church, and how they create great difficulties for the accused. These severe tests continue for several of the other accused as well. Farmer John Proctor arguably has the most difficult experiences with these tests of faith and character. When he is finally accused at the end of Act III, Proctor is pushed to his breaking point, and declares that “[he hears] the boot of Lucifer, [he sees] his filthy face! . . . you quail now when you know in your black hearts that this be fraud” (120). Proctor’s metaphor of the “boot” and the “filthy face” of Lucifer represents how he is despaired with the obviously fraudulent trials of the court, how he is utterly exhausted by their tests on his own personal strength and goodness, and how he seems to be witnessing a real life hell. However, though Proctor seems to have given into these tests of character and faith by the courts, he has not yet given up. After significant back and forth about whether to insincerely confess to the court, Proctor realizes that confessing would mean sacrificing his own goodness and faith in God. Although a difficult decision, he ultimately chooses to follow his faith and integrity and to be executed for witchcraft. In his last words to his wife, Elizabeth, Proctor tells her to “show honor now, show a stony heart and sink them with it!” (144). Proctor no longer has fear of his fate; his deep faith reminds him that he has kept true to himself and fights for what is right when it matters most. He uses this metaphor to urge Elizabeth to do the same: to not let the court gain satisfaction from seeing her despair, and to use the steadfastness of her “stony heart” and her faith to bring down and “sink” the court. The accusations of witchcraft in Salem are not easy; it shakes the very core of the community, and creates severe and strenuous tests of faith and character for many of the accused. However, by sticking with their own deep faith in God and defending their integrity, the accused manage to find their “goodness” and pass these tests by doing what is right.
In addition to those accused of witchcraft, the trials cause Reverend Hale to experience a relentless test of his faith in God, which drastically changes him.

When Hale first arrives in Salem, he is utterly committed to God and his beliefs. He sees the Christian religion as “a fortress; no crack in a fortress may be accounted small” (67). With this metaphor of Christianity and theology, Miller shows how deeply Hale values his beliefs, and how he views any wavering “cracks in the fortress” as a renunciation of God. His faith caused him to disregard even reason and logic in his thinking. When the court accuses Rebecca Nurse of witchcraft, Hale had little doubt in the validity of it, saying “If Rebecca Nurse be tainted, then nothing’s left to stop the whole green world from burning” (71). Miller uses this hasty generalization to demonstrate how strongly Hale believes in the courts and in God’s power to bring justice. Hale, upon hearing that the courts accused Rebecca of witchcraft, uses this example of a moral citizen to deem that anyone can come under the power of the devil. By doing so, Hale ignores that fact that Rebecca, like so many of the others accused, has been a pillar of the Salem community for many years and is known to be a moral person. However, as the courts accuse more and more citizens of Salem, these ridiculous accusations cause Hale to waver in his beliefs, which tests his faith in the power of God and all that is good. As John Proctor prepares for his

hanging, Hale tells Elizabeth that “what [he] touched with [his] bright confidence, it died; and where [he] turned the eye of [his] great faith, blood flowed up. Beware, Goody Proctor-- cleave to no faith when faith brings blood” (132). Miller’s metaphor portrays the “blood” as Hale’s regret and guilt at all the destruction he has helped facilitate in Salem. Hale cannot forgive himself for his “bloody guilt” over what he and the courts have done to innocent people, which causes him to lose much of his faith in God. Hale, once one of the most God-filled characters in The Crucible, now finds all that he believed in to be obliterated by the trials. The trials pushed Hale over the threshold of his faith, and radically changed him.
Several others of the Salem community, such as Parris and Abigail, go through these same severe tests; however, unlike Hale and the accused, they fail the tests of faith and integrity due to their lack of these critical characteristics.

Abigail Williams is the citizen of Salem who most acutely fails these tests. When she is confronted by Danforth in the court over her fraudulent accusations, Abigail tells him: “Let you beware, Mr. Danforth. Think you to be so mighty that the power of Hell may not turn your wits? Beware of it!” (108). By having Abigail make a direct ad hominem attack against Danforth’s hyper-confidence, Miller illustrates how Abigail lacks the integrity to tell the truth, and how this reflects her own guilt in what has happened in Salem. She doesn't know how to cope with these accusations truthfully due to her lack of integrity, and thus, turns to criticizing the “wits” and “might” of others to take the blame off of herself. Abigail continues with this strategy of evasion whenever others question her. As soon as Mary Warren, someone who could potentially show the holes in her story, comes to testify against the validity of the spectral evidence, Abigail reacts wickedly. She screams, “Why? Why do you come, yellow bird?” (114). Abigail’s usage of a red herring shows the obvious absence of her trustworthiness and character; she sees no issue in obstructing justice-- by accusing Mary of being a witch-- to save her own skin. To Abigail, all that matters is keeping

her own power and winning over John Proctor, even if it means falsifying evidence and sacrificing the innocent. Abigail has multiple chances throughout the course of the play to do the right thing and speak up; however, her actions continue to prove that she lacks any sense of morality, and she consistently fails the tests of integrity. Much like his niece, Reverend Parris also fails these tests of faith and character during the play. As a minister, one might assume that he would seek out what was truly right in the eyes of God; yet, unlike his counterpart in Hale, Parris’ tests during the trial do not change his faith or beliefs. Instead, they reveal him to be the morally-lacking non-Christian that he truly is. When John Proctor goes to the court to attempt to clear his wife’s name, Parris refuses to view them as the good and honest citizens they are, and instead attacks them, saying “All innocent and Christian people are happy for the courts in Salem! These people are gloomy for it” (94). With this hasty generalization of the feelings of Salem’s Christians, Miller highlights how Parris chooses not to see how corrupt the courts are, and thus, does not do the right thing. Instead, he brushes people like Proctor off as being “not innocent” and “unchristian,” simply because they dare to question the court system. Parris knows only to attack others rather than acknowledge his own faults, of which he has plenty, due to his own lack of integrity and moral character. In The Crucible, the trial process gives many characters the opportunity to speak up for what is just; however, their moral deficits cause them to not speak up and, subsequently, fail these tests of faith and character.
A “crucible” as a severe and relentless test of faith and character takes center stage in the play The Crucible, and this idea is reinforced by Miller’s significant use of figurative language and logical fallacies. The Salem court’s remorseless and unsparing grip on its citizens has profound effects on many of them. For some, like Rebecca Nurse and John Proctor, these tests cause them to defend their faith and who they are until the very end. For others, such as Hale, these tests shatter their reality; what they once believed so strongly in now seems fraudulent. And for others still, like Abigail and Parris, these tests destroy every last shred of their moral being. As seen in Salem’s tragedy of 1692, it is not one’s actions during happy times that defines oneself. In happy times, it is easy to simply follow the norms and believe what everyone else is believing. Instead, it is one’s actions during the hellish times-- the times when holding onto morality seems a herculean task, the times when even God himself seems to be dead-- that defines them.