Substance (n.) is nothing but a collection of qualities with a name — plus an unknown something we fictionally suppose them to inhere in.
Substance (n.) of any kind is something we have no idea of, material or spiritual, since no impression of it exists — we know nothing but particular qualities and perceptions.
Substance (n.) cannot be seen, heard or tasted: if it came by the eyes it would be a colour, by the ears a sound — and nobody says substance is a colour.
Substance (n.) is the unintelligible something the imagination feigns to continue unchanged under all variations, reconciling the smooth sameness we feel with the diversity we see.
Substance (n.) is one only in the world, perfectly simple and indivisible, existing everywhere without local presence; every passion and every configuration of matter is merely its modification.