Mihaly Virizlay speaks a little slower, a little softer and with an even thicker Hungarian accent than usual these days.

He needs a cane to support his much thinner body (a pile of trousers now in need of altering rests on the floor of his den), and a pill organizer to remind him of his medication.

But he greets a visitor to his home near the Johns Hopkins University with the same broad smile and bright eyes that have long been associated with him, on and off the stage.

For 40 years, Virizlay - widely known simply as Misi (pronounced Mee-Shee) - has served as principal cellist in the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. It's an enviable record, by the standards of any orchestra.

Even before a stroke hit him on March 23, shortly after he finished a BSO concert, Virizlay was planning to relinquish the principal chair at the close of the current season, but remain in the BSO cello section. That's still his plan.

"I pray to God I will be able to give my best, as I tried to do when I played principal cello," says Virizlay, 70.

"I feel terribly lucky. The stroke didn't kill me. It let me be here to enjoy my children and take care of my dogs. To be permitted to do this is more than I actually deserve."

On Tuesday, the BSO board of directors acknowledged Virizlay's 40-year tenure by naming him principal cellist emeritus.

Although sidelined from the action at Meyerhoff Symphony Hall, he will be there tomorrow night to be honored by BSO conductor laureate Sergiu Comissiona and BSO president John Gidwitz before the start of a concert.

"I will dedicate our performance of [Zoltan] Kodaly's Dances of Galanta to his wonderful leadership," Comissiona says. "This is appropriate not only because Kodaly was Hungarian, but also was his teacher."

Virizlay had an introductory letter from Kodaly and $600 in his pocket when he arrived in the United States in 1957, having left his homeland in the wake of the failed anti-Communist revolution the year before.

Another former teacher, noted cellist Janos Starker, helped him get out of a New Jersey military camp for refugees.

In short order, Virizlay landed a job in the Dallas Symphony and later succeeded Starker temporarily as principal cellist of the Chicago Symphony. Then it was on to the Pittsburgh Symphony and, in 1962, the BSO. The next year he joined the faculty of the Peabody Institute.

"It didn't take very long to see he was going to be an outstanding cellist," says Starker, who was all of 15 when he started giving lessons to a 7-year-old prodigy named Virizlay.

"I still think of him as my little brother, and, even in our advancing years, he calls me 'Uncle Janos.' I consider him one of the outstanding cellists of our time."

Comissiona agrees.

"I think of his rich sound, his warm sound, which just embraced you," the conductor says. "He made an enormous contribution to the beautiful sound of the string section.

"I blame him because at any orchestra I conduct I am searching for someone of his qualities. He remains for me a model of a principal cellist. And I should add that he has a fantastic sense of humor. It could be overwhelming sometimes at rehearsal, but he knew how to break the tension with his good humor and infectious smile."

Current BSO music director Yuri Temirkanov has also added to the chorus of commendation.

"Misi has made a very valuable contribution to this orchestra these many, many years," Temirkanov says. "Those who have come to know him through his special gift of music also know that he possesses many other personal gifts. These he has given with equal generosity."

Virizlay is clearly touched by all of this fuss.

"I have always wanted to be happy by making music and making people happy," he says.

Since his BSO stint started, back when Peter Herman Adler was on the podium, Virizlay regularly performed solo concertos with the orchestra. His repertoire ranged from familiar Haydn and Dvorak to rarities by Edward MacDowell and George Templeton Strong. He gave the premiere of his own cello concerto with the orchestra in 1987.

"He's a complete musician - a Renaissance man," says longtime BSO cellist Paula Skolnick-Childress, who was once married to Virizlay.

"He can compose; he's a master teacher, a soloist, a chamber musician, a principal cellist and a wonderful section leader. He does it all. And in all these years, no matter what piece we were playing or how often we played it, he had a love and enthusiasm for it. That's rare. He really lives and breathes music."

Skolnick-Childress recalls a nervous night about 25 years ago when the orchestra arrived for a concert at a high school only to find the music missing.

"Misi came to the rescue and played unaccompanied Bach," she says.

In 1997, Virizlay received the "Chevalier du Violoncelle" award from the Eva Janzer Memorial Cello Center of Indiana University, previously given to such eminent cellists as Pierre Fournier and Paul Tortelier.

Now that he has added an emeritus title to his list of credits, Virizlay might easily contemplate retirement, especially given the health setback. But you can see in his eyes that he wants to resume doing what he loves most. ("I told him if he doesn't get well, I'll beat him up," Starker says.)

"Being in an orchestra is liking being in a church and being a part of a Mass," Virizlay says. "To be in the middle of it is an unbelievable experience."

The cellist is a man of few regrets, though he can't help but recall an offer long ago to be principal cellist of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra.

"If I had gone, I would be making incredible money," he says. "But money isn't everything. I told them I liked it better here.

"When I first came here, I fell in love with the symphony, with Peabody and with Baltimore. And since I came here, no other city, no other conservatory and no other orchestra has changed so much for the better."

For now, Virizlay will continue the process of healing. He listens to inspirational "Support for Stroke Recovery" tapes and practices the cello. Although it's too soon to know when he can return to the ranks of the BSO, he'll be involved in hearing auditions for his successor.

"I hope whoever takes over will have as much fun as I have had for 40 years," he says.