This is the only chapter in which the book gives a numbered list of things to hold, and the list has been remembered ever since. I have three treasures which I hold and keep: the first is compassion, the second is frugality, the third is not daring to be ahead of the world.
Each is then given the capacity it produces. Being compassionate one can be courageous. Being frugal one can be generous. Not daring to be ahead one can be the leader of the vessels. In every case the treasure is the source of something that looks like its opposite, and the chapter is explicit that the derived quality cannot be had directly.
That is the argument of the next sentence, which is the sternest in the passage. To be courageous without compassion, generous without frugality, in front without holding back, is death. Courage detached from what produces it is recklessness. Generosity without husbandry is a store that runs out. Precedence without restraint is the exposed position the whole book warns against.
The first treasure is the one that has attracted most attention, because the word covers maternal love, pity and care, and it is an unusually warm term for a text that generally argues from structure. The chapter puts it first and returns to it at the close, saying that compassion wins a battle and holds a defence, and that heaven sets up and guards with it.
That closing claim is not sentimental. It is the same position as chapter sixty-nine, where the side that grieves for the fighting is the side that wins.