The last chapter of the received text opens with three pairs, and all three are about the gap between a quality and its appearance. Trustworthy words are not fine, and fine words are not trustworthy. One who is good does not argue, and one who argues is not good. One who knows is not learned, and one who is learned does not know.
Each is stated in both directions, which makes them exclusions rather than tendencies, and each concerns a way of performing a virtue rather than the virtue itself. Fine words are eloquence, argument is contention conducted verbally, and learning is accumulated breadth. The chapter treats all three as the visible substitutes people accept for reliability, goodness and understanding.
The last pair restates chapter forty-eight's distinction between adding every day and dropping every day, and the second pair restates the book's repeated preference for not contending, which appears at the end of chapters twenty-two and sixty-six.
Whether these are a fitting close depends on which arrangement of the book you are reading, since the silk manuscripts from Mawangdui place this material in the first half and end the whole text at what the received arrangement numbers as chapter thirty-seven. In the received order it reads as a valediction, and its subject, the unreliability of eloquence, is a pointed thing for a book of five thousand characters to end on.