At the Academy of Sciences, some days later, a mine was sprung upon Pasteur by a posthumous publication of Claude Bernard's. He again submitted this abruptly raised question to the decision of the Academy. A series of experiments had been found among Bernard's papers, having as their object the inauguration of a new method of spontaneously generating the substance which causes the fermentation of the must of the grape. 'I will start for the Jura,' said Pasteur. 'In the midst of my vineyard, which,' he proudly added, 'is ten meters square, I will cover over some stocks with an improvised frame. These stocks will go on living and bearing grapes, which will ripen. It is now July. At this time of year, as I have already declared, the germs of the cellules which form the ferment of the grape in the vats do not yet exist, either on the green grapes, on the bunches, or on the vine leaves. I will envelop the bunches of the stocks that are underneath the frame with a layer of cotton wool that has been raised to a temperature of 150 degrees Centigrade. This done, I will come back to Paris with the keys of the frame in my pocket, not returning to the Jura until the vintage season, at the beginning of October. I predict to the Academy, that the grapes wrapped in cotton wool under the frame, and which will have grown ripe, may be crushed in the open air, and that the juice coming from them will not be capable of fermentation.' This prediction was fulfilled. In October, Pasteur returned to the Jura, plucked off several of these stocks, laden with ripe bunches, and brought them with the utmost care to Paris. He had at last the satisfaction of depositing them intact on the table of the Academy of Sciences. He then invited M. Berthelot (editor of Bernard's pamphlet), and all his colleagues, to cut off as many bunches as they pleased. 'Only crush them in contact with pure air,' said he, 'and I defy you to produce fermentation.'