This means that Swift had either learnt from Defoe or--and considering those earlier productions of his own much more probably--had independently developed the knack of _absorbing_ the reader--the knack of telling a story.

But of course there is in one sense much more, and in another much less, than a story in _Gulliver_: and the finest things in it are independent of story, though (and this once more comes in for our present purpose) they are quite capable of adaptation to story-purposes, and have been so adapted ever since by the greatest masters of the art.

These are strokes of satire, turns of phrase, little illuminations of character, and seasonings of description.

But the great point of _Gulliver_ is that, like Defoe's work, though in not quite the same way, it is _interesting_--that it takes hold of its reader and gives him its "peculiar pleasure." When a work of art does this, it is pretty near perfection.
There is, however, another book of Swift's which, though perhaps seldom mentioned or even thought of in connection with the novel, is of real importance in that connection, and comes specially in with our present main consideration--the way in which the several parts of the completed novel were being, as it were, separately got ready and set apart for the use of the accomplished novelist.

This is the very curious and agreeable piece called _Polite Conversation_ (1738), on which, though it was not printed till late in his life and close on _Pamela_ itself, there is good reason for thinking that he had been for many years engaged.