“The motto upon our banner has been, from the commencement of our moral warfare, ‘Our country is the world--our countrymen are all mankind.’ We trust it will be our only epitaph. Another motto we have chosen is ‘Universal Emancipation.’ Up to this time we have limited its application to those who are held in this country, by Southern taskmasters, as marketable commodities, goods and chattels, and implements of husbandry. Henceforth we shall use it in its widest latitude: the emancipation of our whole race from the dominion of man, from the thralldom of self, from the government of brute force, from the bondage of sin--and bringing them under the dominion of God, the control of an inward spirit, the government of the law of love, and into the obedience and liberty of Christ, who is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” Frederick’s heart beat fast. He was breathing hard. The words came faint; for inside he was shouting, “This man is Moses! Here is the Moses who will lead my people out of bondage!” He wanted to throw himself at this man’s feet. He wanted to help him. Then they were singing--all the people in the hall were singing--and Frederick slipped out. He ran all the way home. He could not walk. Summer came. There was more work on the wharves, when his son was born. Frederick laughed at obstacles. He’d show them! “Them” became the whole world--the white caulkers who refused to work with him, anybody who denied a place to his son because his skin was rosy brown! The young father went into an oil refinery, and then into a brass foundry where all through the next winter he worked two nights a week besides each day. Hard work, night and day, over a furnace hot enough to keep the metal running like water, might seem more favorable to action than to thought, yet while he fanned the flames Frederick dreamed dreams, saw pictures in the flames. He must get ready! He must learn more. He nailed a newspaper to the post near his bellows and read while he pushed the heavy beam up and down. In the summer of 1841 the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society held its grand convention in Nantucket. Frederick decided to take a day off from work and attend a session. The little freedom breeze was blowing up a gale. Theologians, congressmen, governors and business men had hurled invectives, abuse and legislation at the Anti-Slavery Society, at the _Liberator_ and at the paper’s editor, William Lloyd Garrison. But in London, Garrison had refused to sit on the floor of the World Convention of Anti-Slavery Societies because women delegates had been barred; and now the very man who had founded the movement in America was being execrated by many of those who professed to follow him. But Frederick knew only that William Lloyd Garrison would be at Nantucket.