Lidia saw at once that the Cseh teacher had to be 'a wise psychologist'. During the course, which ordinarily took place in the evenings, when the pupils were tired, the teacher had to 'continually nourish the students' interest, make them pay complete attention and make them not yawn, but laugh!'
The Cseh course in Amhem ended on 29 July and Lidia went on to England for the congress. The city of Oxford had been 'preparing for the invasion' of the Esperantists. According to the Oxford Mail, 'More than one hundred' shopkeepers had been learning Esperanto to serve the visitors, and in one cafe fifteen waitresses had leamed to speak the language, the newspaper boasted, 'fluently'.
As the Esperantists streamed into Oxford, the local inhabitants streamed out, in cars, coaches and motorcycles, bound for the sea or the moors. Once again the Esperantists had come to Britain on August Bank Holiday. But this time it was a dismal and cheerless holiday with pouring rain.
The congress was held in the Town Hall. The Duke of Connaught, brother of the King, was the high patron, and other patrons included the Minister ofEducation and a number ofuniversity professors. Once again Lidia and her uncle Feliks, as representarives of the Zamenhof family, were persuaded - amid much applause - tojoin the dignitaries on the platform. They both 'gave short but moving speeches in the very spirit of the inventor of this wonderful language', Evelyn Baxter of London remarked. Later Lidia greeted the congress as the official representative from Poland. She was pleased that Shoghi EfFendi's letter of greeting was one of a very few chosen to be read before the congress.
During the meetings, there was concem about recent attacks against Esperanto 'for our supposed inclination to one or another party or sect' and accusations in the British press that Esperanto was subversive. There was wide popular prejudice against Esperanto in rightist extreme nationalist circles all over Europe. The fact that Dr Zamenhof was a Jew was enough to convince some fanatics of the absurd notion that Esperanto was a Jewish-Communist conspiracy to enslave Europe. These scurrilous claims originated especially in Germany, where National Socialism was consolidating its power, and the propaganda organs of the Nazis were spewing out false and repulsive accusations against the Jews, and attempting to link them - and anything, such as Esperanto, that might be connected to them - with communism.
The Baha'f meeting at the Oxford congress took place on a rainy day in an ancient lecture hall in Christ Church. The sixty people in attendance filled the room. Professor Paul Christaller opened the meeting, and Lidia spoke on the topic of'Man, God, Prophet'. It was clear from the text of her speech that the spells of doubt, during which beliefebbed and flowed 'as a sea-tide', were over. Lidia Zamenhofhad found a deeply rooted faith in God once more.
In dark times of crisis, when mankind was wandering aimlessly like a flock of sheep, Lidia told her audience in Oxford, prophets appeared to lead humanity out of its erring ways. Was the prophet human or divine? She spoke of the nature of man and of God. Something sublime, which the senses could not perceive, lifted man above the rest of the creatures — his spirit. The prophet was greater than man, yet not God. The prophets, she said, could be compared to rays of sunlight that warmed the earth. They were not the great sun itself, although they brought to the earth the sun's essence: light and warmth. And the prophets were like the moon, shining down upon the earth, although their light came not from themselves but from the sun.
Who was God, and what was His essence, His nature? 'Stand before a portrait of Leonardo da Vinci', Lidia said, 'and ask it who was its author, who gave birth to him, where he came from. The portrait, even if it knew how to speak, would not respond. It could speak only of the talent of the artist, of the power of his inspiration, of his artistic fervor and his industrious work, but nothing of his person. It could speak only about the qualities of the creator, not about the creator himself. Because a creation does not understand its creator, who is separate from it; only the creator has full knowledge of the creation.
. . We, and the whole world, and the entire realm ofcreation attest to the Creator, Who, having given existence to all, remains Himself outside and above all. We cannot know His essence, we can only know Him through his creation.'
The essential teachings of all the prophets of the past were the same, she went on. Each of them brought rays of the same sun, each of them taught love - love of God, love of one's fellow man. Although the prophets had disappeared from the material world, their words had not. 'The Divine Inspiration which spoke through the mouth of each of them did not die but, like a phoenix, is always reborn of its own ashes. In this day once again its song can be heard. Whoever has ears, let him hear.'
Afterward, one of those in the audience wrote: 'The words of the world language, truly masterfully spoken by her and raised to artistic perfection, became harmonic tunes of pure spiritual music which her talk presented. The sun broke through the rain clouds and sent warm and bright rays through the ancient windows, and in the room of Christ Church College the spirit of a new, auspicious epoch for mankind reigned.'
When Lidia's talk was published as a booklet, the Esperantist reviewer and journalist Max Butin wrote of it: 'Very wise words, not to be criticized by profane words. Between God and man, as it were, stands the prophet - mediator, advisor, reflection of the divinity and echo of the music of etemity. The linguistically good text extra- ordinarily warms the heart and liberates the soul.'
When the congress ended Lidia traveled to London and spoke at a meeting on August 13 at the Baha'f Reading Room on Regent Street. Again the room was crowded, and the people stayed long after the speeches had ended. A number of Esperantists attended, and, Lidia confided to Shoghi Effendi, it was gratifying to hear words of appreciation from those who had not shown much interest before.
At this meeting Lidia spoke of mankind as children who had wandered into a forest against the warnings of their elders and had become lost. Just when, perhaps, the eyes of wolves glowed in the distance, or enticing will-o'-the-wisps were dancing on the marshes, the father's voice rang out, leading the way home. 'Children would immediately run home', she said. 'And mankind? If it obeys the Voice it also will be saved from the forest at night; otherwise it will become the victim of the wolves.
'In these last days mankind has entered a forest where thoms wound the body and the feet sink in a bog. It is not the first time it has turned aside from the path. Many times has the Father saved it from danger. But now the people have entered such a wilderness that they have lost the hope that the Father will find them there, that His voice will reach them; they even doubt whether they have a Father.
'But the Father loves his children and does not leave them to perish helpless.
'The Father's voice calling to mankind is the teachings of the prophets. The voice that is calling through the dense forest in these last days of despair is Baha'u'llah. His teachings lead again to tranquility, peace and safety.
'He reminds us that we are children of one Father, members of one family, dwellers in one home; that we must make this home a sanctuary of peace, not a battlefield.'
By August 18 Lidia was back in Warsaw. Though she had many pleasant memories of the Oxford congress, it was the Cseh course that had most deeply impressed her. 'I myself am a teacher of Esperanto,' she wrote to Julia Isbrŭcker, one of the founders of the Cseh Institute,, telling her of her enthusiasm for the course and the Cseh method. 'I know all the difficulties of teaching and thus am competent to accurately evaluate the inestimable course of Mr Cseh. I feel sincere admiration for that truly brilliant teacher.'