Sophia Smith's girlhood was passed during this indifference or opposition to education for women. When she was fourteen, in 1810, she went to school in Hartford, Conn., for twelve weeks; and four years later, at eighteen, she was for a short time a pupil in the Hopkins Academy in Hadley. She studied diligently with her quick, eager mind, and was thankful for these crumbs of knowledge, though she lamented through her life that her opportunities had been so limited. Year by year went by in the quiet New England home, her sister Harriet taking upon herself the burden of household cares and business, as Sophia was frail, and at forty had become very deaf. Her mind had been broadened, and her heart kept tender to every sorrow, by her Christian faith and devotion to duty. The town of Hatfield had capable ministers, who were intellectual as well as spiritual helpers, and Sophia Smith enjoyed cultivated minds. "By reading mostly," says the Rev. John M. Greene of Lowell, Mass., "she kept herself familiar with the common events and occurrences of the day. Probably what she and others called a calamity was a blessing to her. She had fortitude to bear the trial, and the wisdom to improve the reflective and meditative powers of her mind, far beyond what the fashionable and gossiping woman attains. Deafness is an admirable remedy for insincerity, shallowness, and foolish talking. It sifts what we hear, and compels us to try to say what is worth attention." Miss Smith attended the services of the Congregational Church, of which she was a member; and though she could not hear a word of the sermon perhaps, she felt accountable for the influence of her presence. She loved the Bible, and would quote the words of Sir William Jones: "The Bible contains more true sublimity, more exquisite beauty, more pure morality, more important history, and finer strains of poetry and eloquence, than can be collected from all other books, in whatever age or language they have been written." She had the strength of character of the typical New England woman, yet possessing gentle manners and most refined tastes. She loved nature; and in Hatfield, with its magnificent elms and beautiful river, Miss Smith had much to enjoy. Some of these great elms measure twenty-eight feet in circumference, three yards from the ground. In this charming scenery, reading her books, and doing good as she had opportunity, Miss Smith was growing old. Her sister Harriet had died a little before the time of our Civil War, and the lonely woman bent her energies towards helping other aching hearts. She worked with her own hands to aid the soldiers and their families, and when she had the means used it generously. Her brother Austin died March 8, 1861; and very unexpectedly Sophia Smith became the possessor, through his gift, of over $200,000. "God permitted him," says the Rev. Mr. Greene, to "gather the gold, preparing all the while the heart of a devout and Christlike sister to dispense it."