Henry thought he was a philosopher and tried to be one.

He thought he was a man of the world and wanted to be one.

He was, in spite of himself, a provincial.
Provincialism is not necessarily rustic, even suburban.

There is no provincial quite so provincial as he who has passed his life in great cities.

The Parisian boulevardier taken away from the asphalt, the cockney a little off Clapham Common and the Strand, is lost.