Welsh poetry abounds in alliteration, which is also a characteristic of Icelandic song, and obviously insinuates a northern origin. The person of a bard was held sacred, and the laws of Howel Dda enacted, “that whoever even slightly injured a bard was to pay an eric or fine of six cows, and one hundred and twenty pence. The murderer of a bard was to pay one hundred and twenty-six cows.” These bardic laws resembled those relating to a similar class of persons in Ireland, where it was deemed an act of sacrilege to seize on the estate of a bard, even for the public service, and in times of national distress. The officers of the royal household, both in Wales and Ireland, at this period, consisted of a _bard_, musician, smith, physician, and huntsman. To an intercourse with the Irish nation is traceable the introduction of the harp into Cambria. The Welsh, so late as in the eleventh century, were accustomed to pass over into that kingdom, and there receive instruction in the bardic profession. Gryffydd ap Cynan, king of Wales, in 1078, “brought over from Ireland divers cunning musicians into Wales, from whom is derived in a manner all the instrumental music that is now there used; as appeareth as well by the bookes written of the same, as also by the names of the tunes and measures used among them to this daie.” An election of bards took place annually, at an assembly of the princes and chieftains of the nation. Precedence, emolument, and honours, suitable to their respective merits were then assigned to each. The most meritorious was solemnly crowned on the Bardic throne, and presented, as a token of his preeminent genius, with a silver chair. This congress was usually held at one of the three royal residences of the princes of Wales, the sovereign himself presiding on the occasion. Upon the introduction of the harp, Gryffydd determined to restrain the inordinate vanity of the bards, and to remodel the order. He enacted laws for their future government, the severity of which is a sufficient indication of the necessity of their institution. Amongst the penalties was one of much apparent hardship,—“If a minstrel offended in any of the recited instances, ‘_every man_’ was appointed an officer of justice, in such case, with liberty to arrest and inflict discretional punishment, and authority to seize upon whatever property the offender had about his person.” Under these regulations, and the auspices of an enlightened prince, respect for the order was reestablished, and eminent minstrels again flourished both in North and South Wales.