BEDFORD, N.H., FEB. 14 -- From the pulpit of a large fundamentalist church, Republican Pat Robertson declared today that he has heard messages from God about his presidential campaign and that he is now sure he will be the next president.

The former television evangelist delivered a combination sermon and stump speech before a warmly supportive congregation at Faith Christian Center here. Church leaders had banned television crews, and they politely but firmly prohibited reporters from using tape recorders.

In such circumstances, Robertson often says more about the religious basis of his campaign than he does when the cameras are rolling.

Today, the candidate did not state directly that God has told him he will win the election -- but he left that impression with some in the congregation. He said he entered the presidential race only because God ordered him to. He suggested that divine aid was at work in his strong finish in Iowa last week.

It is a basic tenet of Robertson's charismatic faith that God gives humans precise directions about secular events. Robertson is among tens of millions who feel this way.

Robertson told the congregation today about the success of Christian Broadcasting Network (CBN), the international cable-television operation he began in 1960 after, he said, he heard God directing him to do so.

By the mid-1980s, Robertson said, "I had everything you could ask for," and he was content to finish his life at his electronic ministry. "But God had something else for me to do," he said.

"I heard the Lord," Robertson related in a whisper, "saying 'I have something else for you to do. I want you to run for president of the United States.' "

Because of the divine call, Robertson said, "I was not surprised the way {others} were when we did so well in a place called Iowa. I didn't think that the One who has never failed me was going to fail me now."

This echoed a comment Robertson made a week ago, after his second-place finish in the Iowa caucuses. He told an acquaintance that "It felt like God had reached down and turned a switch."

Today, Robertson told the congregation that "This is where God wanted me to be . . . . Here I am in New Hampshire, before a major primary." He then said, "I assure you that I am going to be the next president of the United States."

In the last few days, Robertson has exuded confidence during his campaign treks through New Hampshire. He has declared that he is "a solid third" among Republican candidates here and "the only question is how much beyond third we can go."

The opinion polls -- which have not been infallible in the past -- show him tied with two other candidates for third place in the five-way Republican race.

New Hampshire would not appear to be congenial terrain for Robertson, who has built his successes elsewhere around committed "armies" of born-again Christians, who like his appeal for a more moral America. The born-again population is fairly small here -- less than 20 percent of the electorate, by most estimates, as opposed to more than 35 percent in Iowa.

The born-again Christians in this snowy state call themselves "The Frozen Chosen," but they seem to have caught on fire with enthusiasm over the Robertson campaign. For sheer intensity, no campaign can match the Robertson effort.

After Robertson told his people that "the White Mountain State needs to become a sea of blue," they obliged by dotting town after town with big blue "Robertson 1988" yard signs. Yesterday, Robertson backers who had mounted the signs on their cars and trucks drove around the state in a caravan of dozens of vehicles.

At a rally of his highly energized backers Saturday night, Robertson got more standing ovations in the first minutes of his talk than most candidates receive from a whole speech. The crowd laughed and sang and howled and shouted ("Amen, Pat! Praise the Lord!") with enthusiasm rarely seen for other candidates.

To reach beyond his committed evangelical base, Robertson's campaign has mailed or handed out over 170,000 copies of an audio cassette tape in which the candidate lays out his core message: contempt for the Soviets, disdain for homosexuals, a return to a balanced budget without raising taxes, and a national drive to restore "traditional moral values."

The tape seems to have made an impression. A voter, whom Robertson met at a cardboard factory last week, said that he had kept the cassette in a drawer and then decided to listen to it after Robertson's big finish in Iowa. "It made some sense," the man said, a fairly strong compliment in this taciturn region.