In "The Elements of Style," the late E.B. White set down 21 rules for writers. He rarely called them "rules." He called them "suggestions and cautionary hints," but coming from White, even a cautionary hint carries authority. This was White's Hint No. 8:

"Avoid the use of qualifiers. 'Rather,' 'very,' 'little,' 'pretty' -- these are the leeches that infest the pond of prose, sucking the blood of words ... We should all be very watchful of this rule, for it is a rather important one and we are pretty sure to violate it now and then."

I thought about Rule 8 last year when President Clinton responded to 81 questions from the House Judiciary Committee. The Washington Post found him less than responsive. Pondered the Post:

"Anything of moment that he were to say, after all, could only strengthen the possibility of his eventual prosecution, and it is somewhat understandable that Mr. Clinton would seek to protect his hide."

"Somewhat" understandable? There is another leech word for you. Given the circumstances -- Mr. Clinton was then facing impeachment and trial -- it was overwhelmingly understandable that he wanted to protect his hide. The "somewhat" diluted a sentence that had been watered down to begin with.

A couple of years ago The Associated Press provided a feature story from Winston-Salem, N.C., about R.J. Reynolds, the tobacco baron. He had built a 64-room mansion, Reynolda House, in 1917. "Unlike palatial homes of the rich and famous like the 250-room Biltmore estate in Asheville, Reynolda is rather unpretentious."

"Rather" unpretentious? What does the "rather" add?

Smithsonian magazine carried an article awhile back on lawns and gardens. Some gardens are tidy and most lawns are neatly trimmed, but the front lawn at the home of Mary E. Berry is an exuberance of leggy wildflowers and tall prairie grass. Berry "is a rather scrappy environmentalist who has nothing good to say about the cultivation of short grass."

"Rather" scrappy? The modifier leaves the sentence salt-free. Why take away the taste?

A retired Navy captain, Howard W. Holschuh of Hilton Head, S.C., has passed along a suggestion that he received as an undergraduate at Stanford. His professor suggested that he try substituting "damn" or "damned" whenever he had an impulse to use "very." Good idea.

Another leech word is "arguably." A fee authorized by the Federal Communications Commission is arguably unconstitutional. Denver's school superintendent Irv Moskowitz is arguably at the top of his game. Van Dyck's last years in England "were arguably the most glorious in the history of painting in Britain." Thomas Merton was "arguably the world's most famous Trappist monk."

I have a hundred such soupy citations. USA Today described Roy Rogers as arguably the most beloved singing cowboy of his era. Newsweek concluded that the Cardinals' Mark McGwire had broken what is arguably the most sacrosanct record in baseball. The New York Times thought that Germany's 1998 elections were arguably the most important since World War II. In The Washington Post, golfer Jack Nicklaus is arguably the greatest player in the history of the game.

And so on, and so on. The three days at Gettysburg in 1863 "are arguably the most important three days in American history." The Lyons Dance Biennial "is arguably Europe's most important dance festival." Meryl Streep "is arguably the most respected actress of the late 20th century."

Yukkk! (I say "yukkk" because my quota of "aarrghs" is exhausted for July.) In each of the examples, the writer was expressing opinion -- but it was flabby opinion. It had no bones in it. This was opinion in ruffles and furbelows.

It is furbelow me to condemn all moderate expressions of opinion. Even I am sometimes in doubt. Pastels have their place in the graphic arts. There is a great deal to be said for sopranos sotto voce and tubas pianissimo. Bourbon and water is entirely appropriate for nursing mothers. But if we have strong opinions -- and every writer should have strong opinions -- let them be strongly expressed. Out with it! Pete Sampras is not "arguably" the greatest tennis player of all time. He is the best that ever was.

Questions about "a" and "an" continue to trouble a good many writers. The old rule called for "a" before words beginning with a consonant and "an" before words beginning with a vowel. Thus, a book, a candle, an aardvark, an iceberg. The old rule suffered from so many exceptions that a new rule came into being: Go by the sound of the word following "a" or "an." Thus, a one-year term, an open question, a CBS program, an L.A. Times reporter.

Here are some examples of "an" where I believe "a" would have been better: an unique character, an 9-8 victory, an 103-62 loss, an seven-foot birdie putt. Often a writer will use "a" where "an" works better: a article, a anonymous writer, a 18-year-old woman, a 8-pound girl, a 11-point Clinton lead, a $18 million contract and a ineffectual candidate.

Those are the easy ones. We get into knockdown arguments over the aspirated and unaspirated "h." The Las Vegas Review-Journal likes "a historic occasion." The New York Times goes for "a hilarious version." Newsweek requires "a Hispanic TV company." By universal agreement it has become "a hotel in New Hampshire."

Some authorities have attempted to nail down a rule: If the accent is on the second syllable, rather than the first syllable of the operative word, "an" is acceptable: an habitual offender, an harassed employee, an humanitarian cause, an hypothesis. I like "an historic moment." My ear guides me to "an heroic rescue." Bryan Garner, a late arrival in the field of experts, calls "an heroic" an affectation, but those of us who hear the unaspirated "h" are doing only what comes naturally.

The AP, whose Stylebook is our bible, decrees "a historic" event. So be it. The only rock-solid rule in this area is to be consistent. If law is an honorable profession on page 10, it had better not be a honorable profession on page 11. That's a very sound rule, and we should be pretty well advised to obey it.