On March 4 the outgoing and incoming Presidents rode side by side in a carriage from the Executive Mansion to the Capitol and back, escorted by an imposing military and civic procession; and an immense throng of spectators heard the new Executive read his inaugural address from the east portico of the Capitol.  He stated frankly that a disruption of the Federal Union was being formidably attempted, and discussed dispassionately the theory and illegality of secession.  He held that the Union was perpetual; that resolves and ordinances of disunion are legally void; and announced that to the extent of his ability he would faithfully execute the laws of the Union in all the States.  The power confided to him would be used to hold, occupy, and possess the property and places belonging to the government, and to collect the duties and imposts.  But beyond what might be necessary for these objects there would be no invasion, no using of force against or among the people anywhere.  Where hostility to the United States in any interior locality should be so great and universal as to prevent competent resident citizens from holding the Federal offices, there would be no attempt to force obnoxious strangers among them for that object.  The mails, unless repelled, would continue to be furnished in all parts of the Union; and this course would be followed until current events and experience should show a change to be necessary.  To the South he made an earnest plea against the folly of disunion, and in favor of maintaining peace and fraternal good will; declaring that their property, peace, and personal security were in no danger from a Republican administration.

“One section of our country believes slavery is right and ought to be extended,” he said, “while the other believes it is wrong and ought not to be extended; that is the only substantial dispute....  Physically speaking, we cannot separate.  We cannot remove our respective sections from each other, nor build an impassable wall between them.  A husband and wife may be divorced, and go out of the presence and beyond the reach of each other; but the different parts of our country cannot do this.  They cannot but remain face to face, and intercourse, either amicable or hostile, must continue between them.  Is it possible, then, to make that intercourse more advantageous or more satisfactory after separation than before?  Can aliens make treaties easier than friends can make laws?  Can treaties be more faithfully enforced between aliens, than laws can among friends?  Suppose you go to war, you cannot fight always; and when, after much loss on both sides and no gain on either, you cease fighting, the identical old questions as to terms of intercourse are again upon you....  In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war.  The government will not assail you.  You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors....  I am loath to close.  We are not enemies, but friends.  We must not be enemies.  Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.  The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battle-field and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”