Nevertheless, when a slave has nerve enough to exercise it, and boldly approaches his master, with a well-founded complaint against an overseer, though he may be repulsed, and may even have that of which he complains repeated at the time, and, though he may be beaten by his master, as well as by the overseer, for his temerity, in the end the{65} policy of complaining is, generally, vindicated by the relaxed rigor of the overseer's treatment.

The latter becomes more careful, and less disposed to use the lash upon such slaves thereafter.
It is with this final result in view, rather than with any expectation of immediate good, that the outraged slave is induced to meet his master with a complaint.

The overseer very naturally dislikes to have the ear of the master disturbed by complaints; and, either upon this consideration, or upon advice and warning privately given him by his employers, he generally modifies the rigor of his rule, after an outbreak of the kind to which I have been referring.
Howsoever the slaveholder may allow himself to act toward his slave, and, whatever cruelty he may deem it wise, for example's sake, or for the gratification of his humor, to inflict, he cannot, in the absence of all provocation, look with pleasure upon the bleeding wounds of a defenseless slave-woman.

When he drives her from his presence without redress, or the hope of redress, he acts, generally, from motives of policy, rather than from a hardened nature, or from innate brutality.
Yet, let but his own temper be stirred, his own passions get loose, and the slave-owner will go _far beyond_ the overseer in cruelty.

He will convince the slave that his wrath is far more terrible and boundless, and vastly more to be dreaded, than that of the underling overseer.