As regards religious belief, he was not so fanatical as most of the Taborites. Had he had his own way, the religious reform in Bohemia would not have gone to such lengths, but would have stopped with the doctrines advanced by Hus, and there would have been less argument and more practical piety. With him religion, piety, and goodness were synonymous terms, and he could not conceive of a person being irreligious and yet good and noble. As for himself, he was disinterested in all his dealings, perfectly sincere and upright, true to a given promise, magnanimous at times to an open enemy, but unrelenting in his severity against all half-hearted hypocrites. At times he was very cruel; but the age was cruel, and often he merely followed the example set by the more cruel enemy.
As a warrior he belonged to that small number of generals who, having fought in many battles large and small, never met with a defeat. This is all the more remarkable when one considers that, as a rule, he had to fight against fearful odds, the enemy being larger in numbers, better disciplined, and better equipped,
The blindness of Žižka had this advantage for the Bohemians: his military skill passed to a considerable extent to his lieutenants. Compelled to see through their eyes, he taught them to observe very closely all the advantages that nature offered, or those that could be gained by a judicious division and arrangement of the forces. Doubtless it was the skill and experience thus gained that enabled them to withstand the attacks of the enemy after his death.
The death of Žižka seemed an irretrievable loss both to the Taborites and Calixtines. Indeed, the
