ARE WE witnessing the evolution of Statesman Mike?

It's a problematic notion, and he'd be the first to knock it -- while hoping it might be true.

But times can remake the man. And these times could showcase some of the best instincts and oddly muffled talents of state Senate President Thomas V. Mike Miller Jr.

With a brand new and much younger governor and a new speaker in the House of Delegates, the 59-year-old Mr. Miller has political light years more experience than the state's new leaders.

It's an unexpected status that might be a bit embarrassing.

The redistricting map he drew in league with Gov. Parris N. Glendening resulted, at least indirectly, in the defeat of House Speaker Casper R. Taylor Jr. Political score-settling resulted in a population-balancing district map that was even more politically contorted than usual.

The Court of Appeals found it unconstitutional. The court's own map put Speaker Taylor in a district with many new Republican voters who were unimpressed with his status. He lost by 72 votes, though a recount has been ordered.

Mr. Miller allowed himself to be further implicated in the mapping imbroglio because he called judges on the Court of Appeals to "yell" at them -- his word -- while they were deciding whether his work was constitutional. A lawyers' ethics committee is still examining that episode because lawyers aren't supposed to call, much less yell at, judges in mid-deliberation.

Operating on the court's terrain, his party lost ground in the last election: its candidate for governor, Kathleen Kennedy Townsend, lost, and Republicans gained seats in the state Senate and House. Some said Mr. Miller's famous phone calls and his longevity were part of the chemistry that elected Rep. Robert L. Ehrlich Jr. as governor.

Yet Mr. Miller thrives, perseveres and prevails. He was elected senate president by his Democratic mates recently without a whisper of dissent. In the immediate aftermath of the election, he showed his grasp of the political big picture and his devotion to Maryland.

His job, he said, will be to hold the state together after an election that, once again, showed Maryland divided almost in half. He remains a partisan Democrat, and he will at some point seek political advantage vs. the GOP governor. In the interregnum, though, he chooses to put the stability of the state above party.

The overture reaches beyond words to decisions with importance for a new governor eager to put slot machines at Maryland's race tracks -- and new money in state accounts. Mr. Miller chose not to put a slot machine opponent in charge of the committee that will consider that issue. He has been a slots proponent in the past, but if he changed his mind, he could stall a slots bill any time he chose. He has many cards.

But what he has said recently suggests a wiser Mike, a man of seasoning who loves to comment on the pageant of politics -- but possibly in a more judicious and forgiving way.

Last week, newspapers reported that Mr. Ehrlich had failed to report a few expensive helicopter rides during and after the campaign. Mr. Miller was asked to comment:

"People should have known better in the campaign," he said, "but I think at this early stage of his gubernatorial career, he should be entitled to the benefit of the doubt. Hopefully, they can disclose, he can learn, and we can move on."

One might argue that it's in no one's interest to have the new administration pinned down by a controversy that pales in comparison with the state's huge budget deficit. Mr. Miller does not wish to preside over the Senate in a period of chaos. And solving the budget problem will require the best, undistracted brains of the General Assembly and the new administration.

Mr. Miller's occasionally intemperate comments and phone calls aside, he remains the Assembly's foremost elected historian. He can declaim passionately at length on virtually all the epochs of Maryland and its leaders.

He spent the summer reading biographies of President Lyndon Johnson and recuperating from hip replacement surgery. He aspires, according to a friend, to statesmanship.

"He's living history -- Maryland's Huey Long," his friend said, a reference not to the Louisiana senator's demagoguery and populism but to their kinship as colorful characters.

The elegant new Senate office building in Annapolis bears Mr. Miller's name, but he is not quickly associated with any major legislative accomplishment, no innovative or visionary policy or program. He has presided over difficult moments, making decisions that kept the state functioning through filibusters, budget crises and the expulsion of a senator.

Now he has an opportunity to help guide the state through another difficult time. Maybe he's even willing to be the leader many had expected him to be earlier in his long career.

C. Fraser Smith is an editorial writer for The Sun. His column appears Sundays.